Paint the Town
by xthesegoldeneyesx
Summary: Between college classes and her job as a jazz club performer, love is the last thing on Bella Swan's mind. But when mouthwatering producer Edward offers to help, Bella realizes that he could easily make or break her career...and her heart. M for lemonade.
1. Like a Woman

_**Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight. Just my own brilliant scenarios.**_

**Author's Note: So here it is. Chapter one of my new little masterpiece. I'm thoroughly in love with this story, and I hope you come to enjoy it as well. I know I said I wouldn't be posting until I finished "Lovestruck", but I just couldn't resist. **

**Be warned, though, that this story is **_**much**_** different than my others. I'm talking more language, more scandal, and of course, **_**lemons**_**. So sit back, relax, and enjoy the ride.**

**Pictures of VS outfit and Bella's dress are on my profile.**

**Without further ado, I give you "Paint the Town".**

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"Isabella Marie! You get your pretty little ass out of bed right now!"

I groaned and rolled over, throwing my arm over my eyes to shield them from the light pouring in through my open door. Damn you, Rosalie Hale.

"I'm not kidding, missy. Alice is on her way over here, and if you're still in bed, there's no telling what kind of horrors she might put you through. If I were you, I'd seriously consider getting up. Now."

I made no move to crawl out of the sea of sheets and blankets I was currently engulfed in, and I soon felt one side of my full-size bed sink down slightly under Rosalie's weight.

"Bell-a," she sang into my ear. "Get up. It's Friday and we don't have class. We're going shopping, and if you're not ready when Alice gets here, we're going to make you model sexy lingerie. After that, we're going to make you _buy it_."

"You're a bitch," I croaked sleepily, picking my head up off my pillow and glaring at my beautiful best friend. "And I hate you." She smiled and flipped her long golden hair over her shoulder.

"I may be a bitch, but you will _never_ hate me. It's physically impossible."

"Whatever you say, oh perfect one." I groaned again as I threw the comforter off of me, the air hitting my skin. I slowly sat up and rubbed the sleep from my eyes, looking around the room, and then at Rose. "So what else is on the agenda for today? Do I really have to go shopping?" She grinned devilishly.

"Yes," she piped happily, but quickly caught sight of my less-than-thrilled expression. "Oh, Bella, calm down. It will be fun! We're picking out sexy clubbing outfits for tonight, and then we'll come back here and get you all prettied up. Then, we're going to hit the town. Those Seattle men will think they've died and gone to heaven with all the gorgeous girls walking around." She laughed and grabbed my hand, pulling me off the bed and toward my closet. "Up, up! You can shower later, but now you need to put clothes on. You can't go to the mall dressed like that." She let go of my hand, practically throwing me into my closet door.

"Jesus, Rose. You're like fucking cheerleader Barbie." I glanced at the digital clock on my nightstand. "It's nine thirty in the morning. How the hell are you so goddamn peppy?" She giggled.

"I guess I'm just a morning person who loves shopping. But you know, I'm not nearly half as bad as Alice, which is exactly why you need to get your tiny tush moving." She bounced out of my room, leaving me alone with my thoughts and my rather unspectacular wardrobe.

It was times like these that I wondered how Alice, Rose, and I even got along. They loved shopping, clubbing, make-up, and everything that your typical "girly-girl" found interesting, while I enjoyed sleeping, reading, writing, music, and _quiet._ Not that it happened that much around here.

As much as I despised the early-morning shopping trips, I really wouldn't trade my current situation for anything. I was a 21-year-old senior at Seattle University, living in an off-campus apartment with one of my best friends. I was a Journalism major, and I was only a few short months away from graduation day and hopefully a career as a writer for the Seattle Post. I'd interned with the newspaper the past summer, and they'd told me that I had real potential for a future with them. In the meantime, I worked Saturday nights as a singer at a local old-fashioned jazz club.

Most people I met would never in a million years guess that I could sing, but apparently, the folks at the Topaz Lounge saw something in me that I didn't even see in myself. The story behind my employment is actually pretty funny. Rose and Alice knew that I preferred jazz to the modern-day hip-hop and rap, so they took me to the Topaz Lounge for my 21st birthday. Needless to say, I got a little bit trashed and ended up climbing onto the bar and belting out a very loud and very wasted rendition of "And All That Jazz" in front of the entire club. I guess my drunk singing skills must have been pretty impressive, because instead of having me thrown out, the manager approached me and asked if I wanted a job as a Saturday night performer. I was too intoxicated at the time to fully comprehend what was being asked of me, but when I woke up (with a killer hangover) the next morning, I found the napkin with the manager's number and gave him a call. The rest is history. I've been singing at the Topaz Lounge for the past five months, and I love it. It's an easy job, the pay is marvelous, and I only have to work one night a week. On top of that, I get a good bit of attention from guys who come into the club. (You would too if you were up on stage in a slinky black dress that showed off curves you never even knew you had!)

Ah, yes, that brings us to my romantic life, or as Alice and Rosalie like to call it, the Endless Pit of Despair. That's right, I'm single. For the most part it doesn't bother me, but every now and then, I would like to have someone to spend some time with in a way other than I would with Al or Rose. I guess that it probably works out better this way because between classes and work, my week is completely booked, which would leave no time for a boyfriend. Oh well. I think if I ever _did_ find someone, he would have to be just as much of a work/school addict as I was, or else he would never be able to understand my schedule, and it would never work out. Unfortunately, most of the guys on campus are burnouts, jocks, alcoholics, nerds, or people who just don't care, none of which interest me. Alice and Rosalie call me picky, but I prefer to call it "having standards".

Alice would know nothing about being single anyways, because she's been dating the same guy since sophomore year. She and Jasper actually met on the day we moved in as freshman, and she spent that entire year analyzing everything he did and said around her, trying to figure out if he liked her. When we came back from summer break after our first year, she finally got the nerve to ask him out, and he told her that he'd planned to ask her out last year, but wasn't sure if she liked _him_. They've been dating ever since then, and they are the absolute epitome of the perfect couple. You can tell just by the way they look at each other that they're totally, completely, madly in love with each other, and just that look is enough to make me forget all the reasons I don't want a boyfriend.

Rosalie, although single, is in an entirely different boat than I am. She actually attempts to communicate with members of the opposite sex, and in 99.9% of cases, they are ready and willing to communicate right back. Rose is crazy-beautiful, with a tall, slim, perfect figure and long blonde hair. She's every guy's fantasy come to life, so it's pretty easy for her to get a date. The problem with that is that Rosalie seems to only date the douche bags. The last guy she dated had been nice enough, right up until Rose and I went to the movies one day and saw him sitting three rows in front of us, making out with some redhead from my Creative Writing class. Why anybody would cheat on Rosalie Hale is completely beyond me; that woman leaves nothing to be desired. She's gorgeous, smart, funny, and is, despite her appearance, weirdly capable of being "one of the guys She just needed someone to appreciate her.

Once upon a time, I'd had a boyfriend too. His name was Michael Newton, and I thought he was "the one". Yeah, right.

We started going out when I was a sophomore and he was a junior, and we'd been dating for just over a year when he kindly informed me that he'd found someone else. And just like that, it was over. I'd been head-over-heels in love with him, and the night he broke up with me was the night I thought he was going to propose. Maybe I'm just really bad at reading signals, because I definitely didn't see the end of our relationship coming. He told me that her name was Jessica, and although he'd never cheated, it didn't feel right that he should have such strong feelings toward another woman while he was dating me.

So the charming prince and his mistress lived happily ever after while the broken princess wondered if she would ever love again.

That was almost a year ago, and I was just now fully recovering. It still hurt a little to see Mike and Jessica walking around campus hand-in-hand, but I was strong enough now that I didn't feel like crying every time I saw them together.

However, I had barely interacted with men since the break-up, so although Rose claimed to want to go out for fun, it was more than likely a scheme to get me to open up to some random guy. I really didn't like the way they were throwing me into the club scene so that I could carry on a boring conversation with a man who was probably only interested in getting laid by the first willing female he could find. Well that certainly wasn't going to be me.

After dressing in a gray velour tracksuit, I eyed my bed longingly, wishing for just twenty or so more minutes of restful sleep. Feeling defiant of my friends, I pulled back the covers and crawled under them, curling up in a ball on my side and sighing as I closed my eyes. Within minutes, I was drifting off to sleep once more.

"Bella!"

_Oh, fuck_.

I immediately recognized Alice's perfect soprano voice, and I knew I was a goner. I could feel her presence by my bed, but I kept my eyes closed, pretending to still be fast asleep.

"I can tell that you're faking it," Alice huffed, sounding impatient. "And I want to go to the mall. Didn't Rosalie warn you about what would happen if you weren't ready when I got here?"

"Yeah," I mumbled into the pillow.

"Well she wasn't kidding. I'll give you to the count of three, Isabella. If you aren't out of that bed, we _will_ make you buy racy lingerie. I'm not joking."

I still didn't move, and she began the countdown.

"One…"

This bed was much too comfortable, and there was no way I was leaving it. Especially to go shopping.

"Two…"

Besides, Alice and Rose couldn't really _force_ me to try on and buy anything. What were they going to do, dress me themselves? Impossible.

"Three."

I threw the covers over my head, indicating to Alice that she was not removing me from my resting place.

"Big mistake, Bella. Big mistake."

I said nothing as I lifted my arm and gave her the finger. I was NOT leaving this room.

***

Three and a half hours and fifteen stores later, I was literally being pushed through the entrance of Victoria's Secret. Somehow, Alice and Rosalie had managed to pry me out of bed and force me into the back of Rose's car, and now we were here.

"You can't make me buy anything," I declared confidently, holding my chin up smugly. "You can't even make me try anything on."

"Au contraire, my darling," Alice piped happily while Rose walked off to find something in my size. "We can, and we will, even if we have to stuff you into an outfit ourselves."

"Found something!" Rose called from across the store, and Alice pulled me over so I could see what horrors awaited me.

"No." I halted as Rose held up the skimpy piece of fabric, and she smiled maliciously.

"Oh, yes."

"No."

"It's perfect!" Alice squealed, ripping the garment from Rose's hands and pulling me back toward the dressing room. I struggled wildly, but that little pixie is one of the strongest women I'd ever met. "Fitting room, please!"

She stood holding my arm as the attendant opened the door for me, and I could see that there was no getting out of this.

"Now, Bella," she began as Rosalie appeared over her shoulder. "You're going to go in there and try this on, and you _will not_ come out of that dressing room until you are wearing it. Am I understood?"

"Yes, mother," I replied sarcastically as she handed over the flimsy lace babydoll.

"Good. Now in you go." She shut the door behind me, and I took several deep breaths before changing into the outfit that had been picked out for me.

One could hardly call this swatch of fabric an outfit; it barely covered me at all! The sheer, pale blue babydoll hugged my body tightly, accentuating every little detail. It was very short, ending about three inches below my hip bone and leaving the rest of my legs completely and utterly exposed. The matching panties were silk thongs, and I spun around to examine myself from every angle. The garment didn't look awful, but this was _definitely_ not me. I would never in a million years wear something so…provocative.

"Are you done yet?" Rose called from the other side of the door.

"Please don't make me come out," I begged, still looking at my reflection.

"No one is looking, Bella. Just come out here and let us see."

I inhaled and opened the door, holding my breath as I stepped out to show my best friends my new attire. Both of their mouths dropped open.

"What?" I asked, panicked. "It looks awful, doesn't it? Oh, I never should have put this on." I turned to go back into the dressing room, but Alice caught my arm.

"Attention all shoppers," she pretended to call the store's attention. "Isabella Swan has a smoking hot body!"

"Shut up, Alice!" I smacked her, trying to pull away. "I do not."

"Bells, you definitely do," Rosalie confirmed. "You look like sex on legs in that thing. You have to buy it."

"No, I don't."

"Yes you do," Alice chimed in, checking the price tag. "It's only $46, you have to!"

"Al, there's no point in spending money on a piece of clothing that no human besides myself will ever lay eyes on. It would just sit in the back of my closet forever."

"But every woman should own a piece of sexy lingerie," she persisted. "Just in case."

"I'm not buying it."

"Fine. I'll buy it for you."

"No."

"Yes. Consider it a belated birthday gift."

"Alice, my birthday was five months ago. This is practically an early gift for my _next_ birthday."

"Whatever you want to call it, Bella," Rosalie said airily, waving my concerns away. "You are leaving here with that. We will not let you go home without it."

A guy walked by with a similar piece of clothing, and he stopped in his tracks to openly ogle me. My cheeks immediately flushed red out of embarrassment as I glared back at him.

"What?" I snapped.

"Nothing, I was just wondering if this will look half as good on my girlfriend as that looks on you." Ugh. This guy had a girlfriend, and he was hitting on me. Exhibit A on why I hate men.

"Pig," I muttered as I flashed a dirty look at Alice and Rose and backed into the fitting room to get redressed.

When I emerged, Alice immediately tore the outfit from my hands and danced up to the register while Rose kept her eye on me to make sure I didn't try to interfere. I wasn't planning on it. I'd already evoked the wrath of Alice once today, and I wasn't about to become a repeat offender. Besides, maybe she was right. That babydoll might come in handy someday…

Who am I kidding? That thing will never see anything other than the inside of my closet.

Regardless, I allowed Alice to hand me the bag without a fuss, and we walked out of the store, looking left, then right.

"What next?" I asked unenthusiastically.

"Bloomingdale's," they answered simultaneously, laughing at the coincidence. I rolled my eyes and let them tow me to the next store.

***

Bloomingdale's wasn't half as bad as I'd expected, and neither was the game of Bella Barbie that I lived through when we arrived home.

Despite the fact that I usually threw a fit beforehand, I really did love the fruits of Alice and Rose's labor. I always looked like a different person when they were finished with me, but in a completely amazing way. Presently, the top half of my hair was pulled back away from my face while the rest cascaded down my shoulders and back in large, soft curls, my long bangs parted in the middle and curled so that they framed my face. My makeup was natural-looking, so instead of changing my appearance, it simply enhanced my features. The gloss on my lips made them appear fuller and more luscious, and the blush, although unnecessary, added a new level of color to my pale skin. As I sat and stared at my reflection in the mirror, I forgot that I had ever wished for a different eye color. The eye shadow played up the brown of my eyes so that the color was warm and chocolate-like rather than the dull and one-dimensional brown that they normally were.

"Your eyes are never dull, Bella," Alice reprimanded as I voiced my opinion. "You just don't see yourself in an unbiased way."

"And _you_ do?" I asked skeptically.

"Maybe not, but that guy at the store sure did. You heard him, didn't you? He was totally into you."

"Alice, he had a girlfriend! He's not exactly the type of guy I want checking me out."

"Who cares if he had a girlfriend? It wasn't like he was asking you out or anything." She placed her hands on her hips and looked at me thoughtfully. "Why can't you just take a compliment?" She demanded, and I stared at her. There was really no need for her to make this personal.

"Why are all guys such douche pricks?" I fired back defensively.

"Ladies, let's calm down," Rose said, walking back into the bathroom to take the hot rollers out of her hair. "We don't want to ruin our night out before it even gets started." Alice ignored her.

"Not _all_ guys are dickheads, Bella."

"All the single ones are!"

"Alice, Bella." Rose snapped her fingers in an attempt to get our attention, but I wasn't paying any mind to her.

"No they aren't!" Alice huffed, raising her voice. "You know what I think? I think that you're afraid."

"What the hell are you talking about?!" I shouted, getting angrier by the second. "I am _not_ afraid!"

"Yes, Bella, you are. You're afraid to open up to men because you're absolutely terrified of being in a relationship."

"That's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard!"

"No, it's not." Alice sighed before continuing. "You're scared because of what Mike did to you. You're unwilling to open up to any guy because you can't stand the thought of getting hurt again."

Tears formed in my eyes, but not because I was angry; I was crying because I heard what Alice was saying, and I knew that she hit the nail on the head. Every word she spoke screamed the truth.

"Alice, that's enough." Rose said sternly. "Can't you see that you're making her upset?" Alice was having none of that.

"Bella, I know that what Mike did hurt you, but you can't hold it against the rest of the male population." Her voice was softer now, more soothing. "There _are_ decent guys out there; you just haven't encountered any yet. But I guarantee you that someday you're going to find someone that makes you absolutely crazy in the best possible way, and you'll want to hold onto him for dear life. And you'll know he's the one, because he'll want to hold onto you, too. To him, you'll be the only woman in the world, and no one else will be able to captivate him like you do, so there will be no possibility of him pulling a Michael. Please trust me, Bella. You'll find him. In fact, I'll bet he's right around the corner."

I sniffled and Alice grabbed a tissue to dab the corners of my eyes. "No more crying, okay? Tonight we're going to go out and have fun." I smiled slightly as Alice hugged me.

"Okay."

"Just promise me something. Loosen up a little tonight. Don't be so uptight and antisocial." I opened my mouth to protest, but she stopped me. "I'm not saying you have to jump into bed with the first guy who looks your way, because I know that's not how you roll, but if a hottie wants to buy you a drink or dance with you, you should let him. Come out of your safety zone a little bit, because that's what relationships are about: taking chances. Can you do that?" I nodded my head in acquiescence, and Alice beamed at me. "Good, now go get dressed."

I stood and walked into my bedroom, pulling my dress out of its box. As I slipped into the flowy blue silk, I could still hear Alice and Rosalie in the bathroom, speaking in hushed tones.

"Was that really necessary? Did you actually have to pull the whole 'you're afraid' thing _tonight_?"

"Rose, you know that it's true, and it was about time that Bella realized it, too. I want her to have fun tonight, and you know very well that unless we said something, she'd just sit at the table and get wasted while guy after guy threw themselves at her. She deserves to know the truth."

"Yeah, but did you have to throw it in her face like that?"

"What other way could I, Rosalie? She just sits by and lets all these opportunities pass her by because Mike Newton fucked her up beyond repair, and it's about time that it stops. She can't go on like this."

"Whatever, Alice. Just don't go crazy on her anymore tonight. I don't know if she can take it."

I heard their quiet steps emerging from the bathroom, so I finished zipping up my dress and stepping into my four-inch black patent leather peep-toe pumps. On wobbling feet, I made my way over to the mirror to take in the finished product. My eyes popped open upon seeing myself, and I smiled in approval.

My legs looked miles long, and the dress's low neckline showed off just the right amount of my normally unimpressive cleavage. Not too prudish, not too slutty…it was perfect. Alice and Rose walked into the room and stopped to check out the new-and-improved me.

"Bella, you look amazing!" Rose squealed while Alice crossed her arms in the doorway, a smug smile on her face.

"We did good, Rose."

"Damn, Bells. Those hot men are going to be throwing themselves at your feet. You won't know what to do with all that attention."

"More than likely not," I muttered, so low that it was almost inaudible, but Rosalie somehow managed to hear me. When Alice walked out of the room to get dressed, Rose pulled me aside.

"Bella, please just try to relax. You don't have to do anything you don't want to; this night is purely for fun, okay? And don't be mad at Alice for what she said. She just wants you to be happy."

"I'm not mad at her, but I'm happy like this," I said rather unconvincingly, and Rose put her arm around me.

"Okay, but just give guys a chance, Bella. They aren't _all_ sucky."

"Rosalie, how do you say that? You've been screwed over by almost every guy you've ever dated, and you're still willing to put yourself out there and give them a chance. I just don't get it." She laughed lightly and shook her head. "What?"

"It's just funny how you think that I'm so brave and outgoing. The truth is, Bella dearest, that I'm just as terrified as you are. I'm so scared of getting hurt, but I'm not about to let that fear stand in the way of meeting someone wonderful. I think that's what Alice was trying to tell you. You can't let the fear of striking out keep you from playing the game." I sighed.

"I guess you're right."

"Of course I'm right. Now put on your game face and let's go score!" She yelled as she pumped her fist into the air. I raised my eyebrow and looked at her skeptically. "Well, figuratively."

"Damn right," I said, laughing. "I am _not_ having sex with anyone tonight." Rose just smiled mischievously.

"We'll see."

Alice popped her head in my bedroom door, smiling widely.

"Edith, are you and Odette ready to hit the club?"

"We sure are, Wendy. But my name is Edy, not Edith," Rose answered.

That was one thing about when we went out clubbing: we all had codenames. It was my idea, and though Alice and Rose were against it at first, I told them that it was the only way I would go with them and they quickly agreed. My name was Odette, after the princess from _Swan Lake_. Bella Swan…_Swan Lake_…you get the idea. It was a fun way to make sure that no overly persistent guys got a hold of my real name, and it made me feel strong because I was able to be someone other than myself for an evening.

"Whatever, Rosalie. You know that Edy is just short for Edith."

"Ugh, what a terrible name. I much prefer Rosalie to _Edith_." She pretended to shudder as she left the room, and I laughed. She was such a drama queen.

"Well, it's now or never," I whispered as I grabbed my purse off my bed and followed my two best friends out of the apartment.

**

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**

A/N: I know, this chapter was a little bit bland, but I had to introduce the characters. Trust me. It WILL get hotter.

**Oh. And I have a little challenge for you lovely readers. If you can tell me where Rosalie's and Alice's codenames originate from, you get a super special mention in the Author's Note of Chapter 2. Hint: Both are from movies.**

**One more thing. Chapter 2 is finished. Like I have it completely done, but I will NOT be posting it until I finish "Lovestruck". Also, I won't post it until I have at least 15 reviews on this chapter. **

**So go on, tell me what you think so far.**

**Love you all.**


	2. In the Passenger Seat

**Author's Note: Alright. I told you that I wasn't going to post this chapter until after I'd finished "Lovestruck", but unfortunately, "Lovestruck" was taken off of the site for violating some rule about real life characters. Bullshit. I mean, who doesn't want to read a story about Robert Pattinson? **

**Anyway, I present thee with Chapter Two. Enter Edward Cullen. Be prepared for a little bit of lemon zest and a whole lot of steam.**

**By the way. I'd just like to give a huge shoutout to my super-wonderful reader/reviewer HappilyEverAfter7. Not only is she amazing at giving heart-warming reviews, but she correctly guessed both Alice AND Rose's "code names". Alice was Wendy...she's constantly compared to a pixie, so I gave her a name from Peter Pan, sort of tying her back to Tinkerbell. Rosalie's name was a bit more difficult. Her code name was Edith...as in Edith Piaf from La Vie en Rose. Get it? La Vie en ROSE? Yeah. I'm a tricky bitch. Haha.**

**Disclaimer: My name might be Steph, but Twilight isn't mine.**

* * *

_Previously on "Paint the Town": "Well, it's now or never," I whispered as I grabbed my purse off my bed and followed my two best friends out of the apartment. _

Onyx was a pretty trendy club, and although it was fairly new, I'd been here several times before (most of those against my will). After skipping the line outside and walking into the hotter-than-hell club, Alice and Rose led me to our usual table in the back corner and I sat my purse down as I turned to face the dance floor.

"Wonderful," I mumbled as I watched the claustrophobia-inducing scene unfold in front of me. Couples were grinding to the beat of some song I didn't know, people were getting smashed everywhere I looked, and not a single one of the guys I saw appealed to me. This was going to be one enjoyable evening; I could just tell now.

Rosalie appeared beside me, holding a shot glass out for me to take.

"That was quick," I commented, taking the glass from her, and she grinned. "What is it?"

"Tequila. I figured that you'd have more fun if you were wasted." She giggled. "Go ahead, sweetie. Drink up."

Seeing some method to her madness, I put the rim of the glass to my lips and quickly tilted my head back, letting the liquid burn my throat as I swallowed it. I slammed the glass back down on the table and took a deep breath, turning to look at Alice.

She had a compact mirror in her hand and was playing with her bangs. She'd decided to straighten her short black hair tonight, and it made a perfect frame around her face. Her dress was ivory with a bubble hem and beaded detailing around the chest and hem, and she looked absolutely gorgeous in it.

Rosalie's dress was…different. I liked it, but I knew that I (or anyone other than Rosalie, for that matter) would never in a million years be able to pull it off. It was a sunset-colored floral print tunic dress, but that didn't mean that it didn't show off her assets. The dress was short, and I mean REALLY short. It made her legs looked so long that it took every guy who checked her out at least ten seconds to get his eyes up to her face (but maybe that was just because they loved looking at her). Her long blonde hair was worn in a curly ponytail with her bangs swept to the side of her forehead, and I'd never seen such a simple updo look so amazing. I'll admit it, I was jealous of her stunning beauty, but when I told her that, she just brushed me off and told me that I looked way hotter than her tonight. _Yeah, okay_. _I'll believe that when guys start to flock around me_.

No sooner had I thought the words, a man with dirty blonde hair and a sly smile came strutting over to where we stood, and Rose nudged me discreetly with her elbow. I smiled at the man, but he didn't see me because he was too busy looking at Rosalie. Perfect.

"Good evening, ladies," he purred, never removing his eyes from Rose's chest. He'd addressed both of us, but I had a feeling that I didn't interest him in the least.

"Hello," Rose said coolly, although I could tell from her stance that she thought this guy was a real looker. "How are you?"

"Oh, much better now that I found you, angel." _You've got to be fucking kidding me. _This guy hadn't said more than 15 words to her, and I could already tell that he was fake. I rolled my eyes and looked back to Alice, who smiled as if to say "what can we do?" She pranced up to me and took my hand, tugging me toward the dance floor.

"Come on, let's go dance."

"Al, you know I—" She cleared her throat, cutting me off mid-sentence.

"The name is Wendy, and _Bella_ may not be able to dance, but _Odette_ sure as hell can. So get your ass out there and dance with me!" My eyes widened at her outburst, and I let my arm allowed her to pull me into the center of the crowd.

A song that I'd never heard was playing, and it was so loud that I could barely hear myself think. Alice, however, was singing along happily, swinging her hips to the beat while I stood there awkwardly, staring at the people dancing around us.

"Odette! _Do something!_" Alice scolded. "Don't just stand there like an invalid. Dance."

"I can't!"

"Fuck you!" She said, laughing. "Yes you can! Here." She put her hands on my hips and literally moved me to the beat.

"Wendy? Wasn't the whole point of this evening to 'hook a hottie' for me?"

"No, silly. It was to have fun!" I glared at her suspiciously until she cracked. "_And_ to hook you a hottie. Why do you ask?"

"Because no guys are going to talk to me if they think that you and I are _together._" She just laughed and pulled me closer.

"Wanna bet?" She still held my hips, and she moved against me to the rhythm of the song. I was shocked by her behavior, but I went along with it because Alice knew a thing or two about guys. Whatever. If she wanted to grind with me in a crowded club, who was I to stop her?

After a bit, I decided to go sit back down at the table while I watched Rosalie and her admirer dance on the edge of the dance floor. She was laughing at something he'd just said, and his eyes went right back to her chest while she was distracted.

God, why were all men such one-track-minded pigs? Was it really too much to ask to find a decent-looking guy who had an incredible personality? Was it too selfish to ask that he be polite and respectful, and not staring at your boobs every five seconds? Did anyone exist who would see me for me and want me because of the kind of person I was and not because I had a "smoking hot body" as Alice so charmingly put it?

I propped my head up and looked around for Alice, hoping that she could talk me into giving someone in this room a shot. However, given my current mood, that was highly unlikely. At that very second, my little pixie of a friend plopped down into the chair beside me, breathing heavily.

"God, I just love dancing!" She exclaimed as she tried to catch her breath. "Don't you?"

"Yeah, it's the best," I replied sarcastically, giving up on the idea of a relationship pep talk and rising from my chair. "I'm going to go get a drink. You want anything?"

"Uh, yeah. Could you grab me a martini? Please and thank you!"

I nodded and left the table, making my way through the smoke and crowd until I finally made it to the bar. Leaning over the wooden surface, I ordered a martini for Alice and a Cosmopolitan for myself. I was sick of shooting that foul-tasting crap, and I was in desperate need of something fruity. While I waited for my drinks, I noticed a nerdy-looking guy with greasy black hair and glasses two seats down who was staring longingly at me. When he caught my gaze, he smiled widely, but I quickly dropped my eyes to the table and took my drinks from the bartender.

"Thanks," I mumbled as I passed the bills over the counter and got off of my stool. "Keep the change."

I had started to walk away when I heard the guy who'd been staring attempt to get my attention.

"Hey, wait!"

I pretended I didn't hear him as I picked up my pace, weaving through the tightly-packed crowd. If I could only get Alice's attention, she would get this guy away from me in a heartbeat.

"Slow down!"

I did the opposite. I sped up. I was walking as fast as I possibly could through the club, and that alone was dangerous for me. I was the clumsiest person alive, and I should have thought about that before I tried to make a mad dash from a stranger in a crowded club. Also, I really should have known better than to attempt all of the above in four-inch heels.

One second, I was walking briskly toward the table, and the next, I stepped the wrong way on my heel and my ankle rolled painfully. That caused me to crash into the person beside me at the time, and I spilled my drinks all over the front of their shirt.

"Oh no," I cried. "Fuck. I'm so sorry. I didn't—I was—" A deep chuckle resonated from the body that I was currently pressed up against, and I let my eyes wander up the person's chest (which was currently stained with my Cosmo and Alice's martini) and to their face. My heart stopped.

I was currently looking at the single most gorgeous man I had ever seen in my life. He was tall, probably around six feet, with a head full of tousled hair in a color that I'd never even imagined naturally possible. It was a warm reddish brown, almost like a bronze, and it stuck up in crazy angles that made it look as though he just rolled out of bed. My breath caught at the mental image of this man rolling out of _my_ bed, and I shook my head subtly to clear it. _What the hell was that? _There was no denying that he was beautiful, but thoughts like that were _so_ not me.

It was then that I noticed his eyes. They were the most striking emerald green, and the way they shone as he looked at me made it seem like he was looking straight into the very core of my being, reading my thoughts and emotions and dreams and reflecting them all back to me. I could get lost forever in those eyes…

My little trance ended when I felt his arms snake around my waist, holding me tightly against him. I know that I was attracted to the guy, and I wasn't trying to deny it, but wasn't he jumping the gun a just a little bit?

He held me tighter, and I felt an inexplicable shock rocket through my body, originating from the spot where his hands were glued to my skin. It was far from unpleasant, but I was still uncomfortable with the fact that a stranger was holding me like this.

I struggled slightly in his grasp, but he never loosened his hold on me, even as I put my hands on his chest and tried to shove him away. All he did was move closer so that his mouth was beside my ear, his warm breath tickling my skin.

"Will you just trust me for a second?" He whispered roughly, his deep, velvety, melodic voice containing a faint undertone of irritation. A sudden warmth flooded my entire body as he spoke, and I shuddered against him, eliciting another chuckle from him. I expected him to call me out on it, but I definitely wasn't expecting what he _did_ say.

"Hey there, beautiful," he said, this time more loudly. "I was looking everywhere for you. Where did you run off to?" He glanced at me expectantly, but I just stood there with my mouth hanging open like an idiot. What was he doing?

"Never mind, it doesn't matter. What do you say that we get going? I'm sure the babysitter would like to get home sometime tonight. You know how our kids can be…"

What the fuck was this guy going on about? I'd never met him before in my life, and now he was rambling on about the children we had together? Maybe he was crazy. Like an ex-mental patient who was having a sudden relapse.

He craned his neck slightly, looking over the top of my head.

"Listen man," I started. "I don't know what you're trying to pull, but I—"

"He's gone," he interrupted, releasing his hold on me and stepping back. I stared at him in confusion, and he raised an eyebrow. "The guy following you. That _is_ why you were practically running, was it not?"

"Uh, yeah, but—"

"Well, he's no longer after you. It was surprising how much effort it took to get him to leave, though; he didn't take the hint to back off until he heard the word 'kids'." He smiled to himself, and I watched him in awe. This perfectly gorgeous stranger that I dumped my drinks on had just saved my ass, and now that his work was done, he was giving no hint that he wanted to leave.

"I'm, uh, sorry about your shirt," I said quickly as I pointed to the stain, trying to fill the silence so that he would stay and talk a little longer.

"Oh, this? It's not a big deal. I have another one just like it at home." One corner of his mouth pulled up into a crooked grin, and it was the single sexiest thing I'd ever laid eyes upon. "If it were any other time, I would accuse you of purposefully spilling your drinks on me, but I witnessed your predicament firsthand, so I'll let you off with a warning." Oh. My. God.

He was flirting with me. Honest to God flirting!

_Okay, Bella,_ I thought. _Showtime_.

The thing was, I didn't feel like I was putting on a show at all. I actually _wanted_ to flirt back with this man. I _wanted_ him to look at me and think that I was sexy. I _wanted_ him to want me.

And as much as that scared the shit out of me, I put on a confident mask and said the first thing that came to mind.

"Is that so?" I asked condescendingly, smirking at him. "And what makes you think that I would _ever_ spill my drink on you on purpose?" His eyes lit up when he saw that I was going to play his game, but he shrugged nonchalantly.

"Oh, I don't know. I was thinking something along the lines that you wanted to give yourself some reason to approach me." I shook my head at his cockiness, folding my arms across my chest. "Though I must admit, if that were the case, I would have been slightly disappointed by your tactic. The whole 'spilling your drink on a guy's shirt' is the oldest trick in the book." I smiled ruefully at him, planning my rebuttal.

"And the whole 'save girl from irritating guy so that she'll give you the time of day' is the second oldest, I suppose?"

"Touché," he said laughing, extending his hand toward me. "I'm Edward." I placed my hand carefully in his, and a shock ran from my fingertips to every other nerve ending in my body as his skin touched mine. It was cool, but not cold, and it felt like heaven.

_Tell him your real name_, the less-responsible side of me urged. _This guy is totally worth it_. However, I couldn't allow myself the luxury of hearing this man speak my name because A) it would probably make me want to tear his clothes off and B) I would regret it after he left and I'd never see him again.

"Odette," I informed him as I tried not to drown in his deep green eyes.

"Odette?" he asked, still holding onto my hand. "As in the princess that was turned into a swan?" My mouth fell open with a tiny "pop".

"You know _Swan_ _Lake_?" He smiled at my disbelieving tone and released my hand, casually rubbing the back of his neck.

"I've seen it once or twice before," he admitted shamelessly, as though he would see it again if he got the chance.

"And you liked it?"

"Yes, actually. It's one of my favorites." I still couldn't believe the words that were coming out of his mouth. His perfect mouth with his luscious lips…I couldn't help but imagine them all over my body… "I take it that you're a fan as well?" He probed.

"Of course. My parents loved the ballet, and _Swan Lake_ was the first I ever saw. It's always been my favorite." Despite the pseudonym that I was currently using, that bit of fact was actually true. My parents had taken me when I was five years old to see _Swan Lake, _and I'd immediately fallen in love with the beauty and grace of the dancers, considering that grace was something I would never have. It was a known fact that I was the clumsiest person alive, and I'm sure that that fact only added to the magic of the ballet. I'd even taken lessons for a year or so, but nothing I did could compare to the awe-inducing talent of the dancers. Out of all the ballets I've seen, however, _Swan Lake_ was my all-time favorite.

"I suppose you've seen _The Nutcracker_ as well?"

"A few times," I answered. It was my parents' favorite. "You?"

"Once. I liked it well enough, but the story line of _Swan Lake_ can't be beat." I smiled as I remembered saying almost the exact same words to my parents when I tried to explain why I preferred _Swan Lake_ over _The Nutcracker_.

"I completely agree."

We were quiet after that, both of us unsure of what to say next. I couldn't take my eyes off of him, and for some reason he seemed to be just as fascinated by my presence.

"So Odette," he said finally, running his hand nervously through that thick bronze hair. "Why don't you let me buy you a drink?"

"You really don't have to," I told him, conveying that while I was tempted to accept, it wasn't at all necessary.

"I insist. Besides, it appears that your drinks are all over me, so I'm obligated to buy you new ones." I considered his offer for a moment before remembering what Alice had said to me earlier:

"_If a hottie wants _to _buy you a drink or dance with you, you should let him."_

"Alright," I agreed with a smile. "But just one drink."

"Of course."

With his hand barely touching the small of my back, he led me over to the bar where we found two open seats and sat down. The bartender wandered toward us a few minutes later and asked what we'd like.

"I'll have a scotch neat," he answered before turning to look at me. "What'll it be for you?" He smiled and my heart skipped a beat.

_Come on, Bella! Order!_

"A Cosmopolitan, please," I said, turning to look directly at the bartender. "And could I maybe get a little extra lime?"

"Sure thing," he replied.

"Thank you so much." I smiled warmly, and he walked away to get our drinks. When I looked back to Edward, he was trying to cover up his amused grin with his hand. "What?"

"Nothing," he said, still trying not to smile.

"Well it's obviously _something_."

"Not really." He shrugged. "I was just thinking about how refreshing it is to meet someone with actual manners."

"Thanks. I guess I can be pretty polite when I want to be."

"And what happens when you don't want to be polite?"

"I could tell you," I said with aloofness. "But then I'd have to kill you."

_Oh God. Did you actually just use that line? What the fuck is wrong with you?! Now he's going to leave. Way to fucking go, Swan._

But then the craziest thing of all happened.

He didn't leave.

He _laughed_.

He threw his head back and laughed at my pathetic attempt at comedy, and I could tell that it wasn't just out of pity. He really thought that I was funny.

It was official: this guy was too good to be true.

And from personal experience, I'd learned that if someone seemed too good to be true, that probably meant that they were. Edward seemed to be everything I looked for in a man: polite, funny, sweet, _attractive_… which meant that there was no way he could possibly be interested in me.

_Shit_. I thought. _Maybe he's gay_.

Although unfortunate, this wouldn't have been the first time that I was hardcore flirting with a man who turned out to be interested in other men. It was just my luck.

_I guess that explains the interest in ballet_.

"Odette?" he asked, waving his hand in front of my face. "What's wrong? Are you alright?"

"Yeah…fine…what?"

"I don't know, you sort of spaced out for a moment there. What were you thinking about?"

"Are you gay?" I blurted out before I could stop myself, and I watched in horror as his expression went blank before me.

_Fuck. Now I've done it._

But then he laughed harder than before, the sound like mellifluous music to my ears. _At least he's not pissed_.

"I take that as a 'no'?" He kept laughing, and I myself chuckled a little at the bluntness of my question.

When he finally got his laughter under control, he looked at me, smiling.

"I'm most certainly _not_ gay. I promise, I'm 100% heterosexual."

"Well that's a relief," I sighed, grinning sheepishly at him.

"Do I seem like I would be gay?" he asked me curiously, and I blushed at the awkwardness of the situation.

"No, it's just that I've never exactly had good luck as far as guys go, and I just wanted to make sure that I wasn't wasting my breath trying to impress you."

"You were trying to impress me?" Damn it. He picked up on my slip of the tongue.

"A little," I admitted as the bartender brought our drinks over and Edward handed him a few bills. "But don't let it go to your head."

"I wouldn't dream of it," he told me sincerely, taking a sip of his scotch. "But still, I can't believe that you thought I was gay. It was the ballet, wasn't it?" I giggled as I lifted my Cosmo to my lips.

"At the mention of _Swan Lake_, most guys respond with 'that's about a bird, right?'." We both laughed at this, and I reveled in the sound. "But really, you just caught me off guard."

"Yeah, I guess ballet isn't something that most men are interested in, but open-mindedness about music and the arts is sort of in my job description."

"And what is it that you do, Edward?"

"I'm a producer at CastleMark Records," he answered casually, as if it were just your average, everyday job.

"Wow, that's very impressive." CastleMark was well known for representing many of today's most well-known artists, and it was surprising to meet someone who was in charge of such a successful company.

"Thank you," he answered shyly.

"How did you get into that business? I mean, did you always want to be a producer at a prestigious record company like CastleMark?"

"Not particularly. In college I started as a Music major, specializing in piano, but when I graduated, my father's friends persuaded me to join them at CastleMark. They're the head haunchos over there. Maybe you've heard of them. Calvin Aro, Dylan Caius, and Simon Marcus?"

"Of course I've heard of them! They're like music industry royalty," I said, in awe that Edward had such close ties with people so high up on the music hierarchy.

"They've always been like uncles to me. In fact, I think they've even been to a few family barbeques." I smiled as I took another sip of my drink.

"That must have been nice."

"It was." He ran his hand through his hair again and finished off his scotch. "Enough about me. What do you do?"

"I'm a full-time student at Seattle University."

"Oh? What year?"

"Senior." He mulled that over for a minute, and I took that opportunity to drink a little bit more of my Cosmo.

"So if you're a senior, that would make you how old?"

"I'm twenty-one."

"Ah," he sighed. "I remember when I was twenty-one. Good times…good times…"

"Oh yes, because I'm sure that it was so long ago," I teased. Edward looked like he couldn't have been older than twenty-five.

"Only three years. I'm twenty-four."

"Mmm. Well I guess you're in luck then, because I happen to find older men attractive," I said seductively, turning on the charm yet again, and he seemed to respond.

"Really?" he asked, his eyes narrowing. "Well how would you feel about dancing with an older man?" I gulped, and he definitely noticed. "What's wrong? Not really a dancer?" I shook my head, and he smiled. "It's okay. I'll lead you." I laughed.

"Fred Astaire couldn't even help me. Seriously, I'm awful."

"Nonsense. C'mon, it will be fun."

I shook my head again, and he smiled.

"Trust me," he purred, and before I knew what I was doing, I was standing up and placing my hand in his, letting him lead me toward the dance floor.

_Um…hi. God? It's Bella. Please do not let me make a fool of myself in front of the sexiest man I've ever met. _

We weaved our way through the crowd, and he stopped and turned me toward him, placing a hand on my waist. I had concentrate hard on not shivering at his touch.

"Put your arms around my neck," he prompted, running his free hand along the underside of my arm. I did as he said, locking my fingers together on the back of his neck while my forearms rested comfortably on his shoulders. A new song began, and he held my hips loosely, moving us to the beat. I didn't have to do a thing because Edward was doing all the work for me. It felt so right to be dancing with him, and I found myself actually having fun.

I soon recognized the song as one of Rosalie's favorites, and although I wasn't too fond of it, I began singing along with the chorus.

"My lips like sugar, this candy's got you sprung. So call me your sugar, you love you some..."

I saw Edward's mouth move, but I couldn't make out his words over the blaring music and the roaring crowd.

"Huh?" I shouted, and he leaned a bit closer to me.

"You like rap music?" He asked. I shook my head vigorously, causing my curls to bounce around my shoulders.

"Not at all," I said, laughing. "But this is one of Edy's favorites, and it plays constantly at our place."

"Edy?" He looked at me questioningly.

"Yeah, it's short for Edith, but don't tell her I told you that; she'd kill me." He smiled "She's one of my best friends."

"Is she the little one with black hair that you were dancing with earlier?"

"No, Edy is the blonde, supermodel-like one. The little one is Wendy. She's my other best friend, but she doesn't live with Edy and me anymore. She shares an apartment with her boyfriend."

I just now noticed what he'd actually said, and I narrowed my eyes suspiciously. "Wait. You were watching me dance with her?" He shrugged his shoulders, glancing away from me. "You were, weren't you?" It looked like he had a faint blush across his cheeks, but the flashing lights of the club made it hard to be sure.

"I wasn't creepily stalking you or anything," he muttered, clearly embarrassed. "But I'd be lying if I said that I was completely unaware of your presence." I just looked at him, a slight smile on my face, and he took my silence as a cue to continue. "You walked past me when you came in. Please forgive me if I'm being forward, but at that point every other woman in this club lost their appeal to me." My smile grew, and he seemed to grow more anxious by the second.

"So when I tripped and fell into you…?"

"_That_ was pure luck on my part, I assure you. In no way did I set myself up for such a thing." He grinned ruefully. "But I'd like to thank those four-inch stilettos of yours. Without them, I might still be trying to find the courage to approach you." I blushed at his remark, and I could feel my entire body growing warm under his gaze.

What the hell was happening to me? I never reacted to men this way, and suddenly I was all tingly and had that warm fuzzy feeling inside. There was just something about this guy that had me hooked, not to mention that little smile of his that had me wanting to rip his clothes off.

_Rip his clothes off?_ Is this the mind of Bella Swan? Because I've never thought like that before. Ever. It's always been, _oh, he looks like an attractive guy. I wouldn't mind getting to know him_, but suddenly I was all, _I want this man to have his way with me as soon as possible_? It was unusual.

I must admit, however, I nearly combusted when he leaned into my ear and sang, "Girl you're my sugar, I call you 'candy'. And tonight I'm gonna get me some."

I pulled back a little bit, but I was still holding onto him as I said, "You didn't tell me that _you_ were a fan of rap."

"It's not my favorite, but I listen to some," he informed me as my arms tightened around his neck.

I couldn't quite explain it, but I felt like I needed to be closer to him and thankfully, he must have felt the same way because as the song changed, he held my hips more tightly and pulled me right up against his body. This time as I moved my hips, they ground against his pelvis, and I watched him close his eyes momentarily in pleasure. The knowledge that I could do this to any man left me feeling empowered, and I flashed him a smug smile as I slid one hand up his neck and into his hair. It was soft and thick, and I loved the way it felt between my fingers. I rolled my hips upward, and he groaned and slipped one of his legs in between both of mine. My core was now grinding against the top of his thigh, and I shivered as I locked eyes with him. His eyes, once a playful emerald, were now dark forest green and clouded with lust.

We danced like this for an immeasurable period of time, increasing our tempo with each passing song. I couldn't believe that I was acting so forward with a man I just met, but for the most part I didn't give a damn. Edward had so far proven to be a gentleman, and I was attracted to him. Hell, it went way beyond attraction. I fucking wanted him.

A small sigh escaped my mouth, and one of his hands moved to carefully cradle the side of my face. It took a moment for me to realize that we'd stopped moving, but I was hyperaware of how close our faces were. I could feel his breath against my skin, and I made sure to never break eye contact with him.

"Odette?"

"Yes?" I breathed.

"I'm going to kiss you now."

I nodded my head slowly as he lowered his mouth toward mine, and I let my eyes drift close in the last second before we made contact.

In the instant that his lips first touched mine it felt like everything on earth had come into perfect focus, but it blurred again just as quickly as it had put itself together. I could concentrate on nothing but the intoxicating scent of him, or the way his mouth felt as it moved against mine, or the way he _tasted_…

He took my lower lip between both of his and gently nibbled on it before sweeping his tongue across, begging for entrance into my mouth. I complied immediately and his tongue entered my mouth, slowly exploring everywhere. I clutched him to me, my fingernails raking down his back as I was hit by a tidal wave of raw desire.

I craved Edward. I wanted him more than I'd ever wanted any man before, and I knew that I had to have him. My body yearned for him, and by the way he was acting, it seemed as though he desired me just as much.

I pulled away from his hot kisses and bit my lip, staring at him from under my lashes.

"Can we get out of here?" I pleaded breathlessly.

"Are you sure?" Okay, maybe Edward wasn't as crazy about the idea as I'd thought he was. Most guys were usually the ones asking _me _to leave with _them_, so I had no idea how to go about this. Maybe I'd asked too soon, or wasn't sly enough about it.

_Or maybe he just wasn't interested_.

Well, only one way to find out.

"Do you want me?"

"Absolutely," he answered confidently, and I grinned, happy with his reply.

"Then I'm positive."

He smiled that beautiful crooked grin once more, and I felt the throbbing between my legs increase tenfold.

"My place is just a few blocks away from here," he informed me. "We can go there."

"That sounds perfect."

He kissed me again, and this time it was slow and sensuous as if he were trying to convey how much he wanted this. Wanted _me_. I moaned into his mouth, and he broke away from me, breathing heavily.

"Why don't you go tell your friends that you're leaving," he suggested. "And I'll meet you by the door."

I nodded and disentangled myself from him, immediately regretting the loss of his body heat. I began to walk away, but he grabbed my hand and pulled me back to him. After bumping into his chest, he slid his lips along my jaw and up to my ear, causing me to tremble.

"Be careful on your way over there," he murmured, and I could practically hear the smirk in his voice. "I wouldn't want a broken ankle to foil the plans I have for you tonight."

Oh dear God.

My breath caught in my throat and I could feel my panties grow damp as my hold on his arms tightened.

"P-plans?" I stuttered, unable to form legitimate words. I swallowed hard. "What kind of plans?"

"Oh, I could tell you." He chuckled darkly, and the hairs on the back of my neck stood up at the sound. "But then I'd have to kill you."

I normally would have laughed, but I had to focus every last bit of my energy on not ravishing Edward in the middle of the dance floor. Because let me tell you, I was just seconds away from doing exactly that.

"You know, I can just text my friends on our way out," I said, moving in the direction of the door.

"Someone's eager, I see."

"Shut up," I joked as he wrapped his arm around my waist and led me out of the crowd. We were nearing the door when I spotted Alice sitting at our table with Rosalie and her admirer. Al looked up and saw me being led out by Edward, and her jaw dropped as she nudged Rose's arm. Rose saw me and smiled, flashing a thumbs up as Alice clapped her hands excitedly. Edward briefly released his hold on me so that he could grab his jacket from coat check, and I immediately felt the loss of his warm arm around my waist.

Although I thought he was busy with his coat, Edward must have seen my friends as well, because he smiled smugly down at me as he held the door open. The February air outside was freezing cold, and once we had exited the club, Edward took his jacket off and draped it over my shoulders. I felt all warm and fuzzy at his polite gesture, and I leaned into his side as his arm once again slid around my waist, holding me to him as we walked briskly toward the parking lot.

I saw him reach into his pocket and pull out a set of keys, pointing them toward the side of the parking lot closest to us. The lights flashed on a sleek silver car, and Edward led me over to the passenger side and opened the door, allowing me to slide in before shutting it again. I watched him as he walked around to the other side of the car, studying the fluidity in every single one of his steps. It was funny how a man had more grace in a few steps than I ever would in my life, but it made him that much more attractive. When he got into the car, I couldn't look away for a moment. Every little move he made heightened my arousal, and by the time we were driving down Main Street, I was fidgeting in my seat, trying to alleviate some of the ever-increasing ache between my thighs. Everything about him made me wetter: the way he moved his perfect lips in sync with the words on the radio, his broad hands on the steering wheel…everything.

Suddenly I felt his hand on my thigh, and I almost jumped out of my skin.

"Sorry," he said smoothly, his finger rubbing circles on my sensitive flesh. "You just looked a bit uncomfortable over there."

"Uh-huh," I choked out, trying not to focus on his fingers inching slowly up my thigh.

"What's wrong?" He sounded amused, as though he knew exactly what my problem was. I closed my eyes and worked on keeping my breathing even, but then his hand reached the hem of my dress.

"Odette? Are you alright?" His fingers played with the fabric before slipping underneath it, tracing intricate patterns up my leg.

"Yeah," I gasped. "Fine."

"Really? Because you seem sort of…uptight."

He stroked the inside of my thigh and I shifted in the seat so that my legs were parted a little more, granting him better access. He snickered before removing his hand completely, and I looked at him in panic. What a bastard! Was he trying to kill me?

"Don't worry, sugar, we're almost there. And then I can help you relax."

Be still my heart.

A few minutes later, we were parked in the parking garage of the Lafayette Building, an enormous apartment complex that no one with a salary below six figures could afford to live in. Edward got out of the car and came around to open my door for me, offering his hand to help me out. I grabbed it and stepped out of the car, shutting the door as quietly as possible behind me. Still holding onto my hand, Edward led me toward an elevator in the corner of the garage, and after pressing the button to summon it, he turned to me.

"This is normally used as the service elevator, but it's much faster than traipsing through the lobby. I hope that's alright with you."

When the doors opened and we stepped inside, we separated, standing several feet away from each other.

"Of course," I answered as I tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. "I don't mind at all." I glanced over at him and was immediately overtaken by the urge to launch myself at him, and when he looked at me with the same longing in his eyes, I couldn't hold back. I took a deliberate step toward him, and he was about to meet me halfway when—

"Hold the elevator!"

Fuck my life.

Edward sighed and pressed his thumb to the "doors open" button as a fake-looking blonde bounced into the elevator

"Thanks so much, Edward. For a second I thought I was going to have to wait for another elevator."

Edward grinned halfheartedly. "What floor?"

"Seven, please." It was then that I noticed what other button was highlighted. The button that indicated what floor Edward and I were traveling to.

PH. For penthouse.

Holy shit, Edward was a kajillionaire.

I bit my lip as Edward snaked his arm around my waist, and I couldn't help but glance over at the blonde, who was now eyeing me with obvious contempt. I wanted nothing more than to toss a smug smile in her direction, but I just nuzzled Edward's neck with my face, loving the soft growl that emerged from his throat.

Not soon enough, the elevator doors slid open and the girl stormed out, to which Edward chuckled and kissed my temple.

"It looks like _someone_ forgot to take their anti-bitch pill this morning."

"That's Casey," he informed me. "She's convinced that we belong together, but I've politely informed her on several occasions that I don't share the same interest."

"Wow. No wonder she hates me; I'm moving in on her man."

"Mmm, her man doesn't mind, though," he whispered, catching my earlobe between his teeth. "He rather likes it." My breathing hitched, and my eyes went to the digital indicator of what floor we were on. Ten.

"How many floors are in this building?" I asked breathlessly.

"Twenty four." Smiling, I turned around and wrapped my arms around his neck, pulling my body flush against his.

"Good. Then we have plenty of time."

I crushed my lips to his and he responded enthusiastically, tightening his grip around my waist until my feet lifted off the ground. I squeaked and let my tongue enter his mouth, tasting every square inch of him as he held me tighter. He broke away from me, his lips moving down to my collar bone and sucking on my skin. I shivered, and when he bit down on the tender flesh, I was surprised to hear the loud moan that ripped from my chest and echoed around the elevator, driving us further and further into our lustful frenzy.

Before I knew what was happening, the elevator opened with a ding and Edward had stepped away from me. He grabbed my hand, pulling me out of the elevator and across the hall to the single door on this floor, and he maintained his hold on me as he fiddled with the lock. Finally, the door swung in and he motioned for me to go first. I stepped inside and heard Edward shut the door behind him as a light flicked on.

I barely caught a glimpse of a perfectly decorated living room before Edward spun me around to face him, his hands roaming up my sides and into my hair. I sighed and closed my eyes, savoring the way his fingers felt against my scalp.

"You are so damn beautiful, you know that?" he whispered huskily, and I blushed.

Edward brought his lips slowly to mine, and I kissed him with everything I had, all the while growing more eager to move into the bedroom. As if he could read my mind, one of Edward's hands gripped the side of my thigh and gently pushed me toward the hallway. I went willingly, my mouth never leaving contact with his, even as we entered his bedroom and he pushed me against the wall. My fingers roamed his chest, feeling the pattern of his muscles under his shirt, and when I reached the hem, I grabbed it and pulled upward. He broke away from my lips long enough for me to get his shirt over his head, and when I threw it to the ground and looked back to him, he was wearing this sexy as hell smirk that made me want to undress as fast as possible and jump in bed with him. So I grabbed the straps of my dress and yanked them off my shoulders before reaching around to try and unzip the dress itself. Before I could succeed, Edward trapped my hands in his, bringing them to his lips and kissing my knuckles.

"No, no." He shook his head slowly. "Allow me."

I dropped my hands and took in the marvelous sight that was his bare chest while he worked at the zipper of my dress. His skin was pale, almost luminous in the moonlight that was streaming through the huge window, but on him, it looked absolutely incredible. Not to mention the fact that he had the best body I'd ever seen. His chest was sculpted, and without his shirt, I could now fully appreciate his muscular arms. How the hell did I get so lucky as to have this man want to bring me home? He was damn near perfect, and he wanted _me_.

My dress fell in a silky pool around my ankles, and I stepped out of it, now only dressed in my black lace push-up bra, matching thongs, and my high heel shoes. Edward stepped away, his eyes roaming my body hungrily while his hands settled on my hips.

"Jesus, I want to taste every inch of you."

He kissed the base of my neck, making sure his tongue grazed my flesh. I shuddered.

"I want to taste you here."

He moved down past my collarbone and placed an open-mouthed kiss on the swell of my left breast, eliciting a gasp from me.

"Mmm. And here."

I whimpered as he lowered himself onto his knees, kissing the whole way down my torso. He stopped with his lips just above my hip and smiled mischievously up at me before he scraped his teeth across my hip bone.

"Edward," I moaned loudly, and he stopped.

"Yes, _ma cherie_?"

Oh God. I gaped down at him, stunned into momentary silence.

"Y-you…um…_parlez-vous français_?" One corner of his mouth pulled up into a smirk, and he nodded his head slowly.

"_Un peu."_

"_Oh, mon dieu," _I moaned, and he placed his lips against my hip bone once more, chuckling softly.

"Does someone have a thing for the language of love?"

"Uh-huh." I'd taken a few years of French in high school, and I thought I'd loved it then. Now, hearing those words roll off of Edward's tongue, my appreciation for the language was on a whole different level.

"Ah, I see," he murmured, letting his hands drift up my sides as he got to his feet. When he was standing at full height, he leaned in as though he was going to kiss me, stopping just inches from my lips. "_Je veux être dans vous_."

I cocked my head, trying to quickly mentally translate his sentence. It took me a moment, but I got it eventually. _I want to be inside you_. My knees went weak, and if I hadn't been holding onto his forearms with all the strength I could muster, I would have crumpled to the floor. My breathing accelerated, and Edward smiled.

"_Voulez-vous couchez avec moi?_"

I swallowed hard, searching my head for words._"Oui, monsieur._"

He attacked my lips then, and whatever resolve I had left crumbled into dust on his floor as his hands slid behind my back, reaching for the clasp of my bra. I was prepared to offer my assistance since most men had trouble mastering the bra clasp, but within seconds, he had tossed the offensive scrap of material to the floor.

_Wow. I wonder what else those talented fingers can do._

He broke away from me, his eyes trained on my exposed breasts, and I blushed furiously, fighting the strong urge to cover myself. Edward must have sensed my discomfort, because he tenderly grabbed my wrists and extended my arms out to the side, holding them against the wall. His head dipped down, and he unexpectedly trailed his tongue along the patch of skin between my breasts. A whimper escaped my lips as my back arched into his face, my body begging for more. He mumbled something against my skin, but I didn't quite catch it.

"Huh?"

"Shoes," he clarified, the stubble on his chin grazing my nipple and making me jump in surprise. "Take them off."

Instead of obeying immediately, I thrust my hips forward, grinding them against his very apparent erection. He groaned, his grip on my wrists growing tighter, and I smiled in satisfaction.

"Your pants go first."

I swear it was only seconds later that his shoes, socks, and pants were laying on the floor at our feet, leaving him only in his black boxer briefs.

"Much better," I commented, now fully able to appreciate almost every inch of his glorious body. His legs were toned as if he worked out a lot, and I could now see that delectable "v" that his hip bones made as they trailed down into his underwear. I wanted to lick those wonderful hips, but I resisted, knowing that I'd get my chance later tonight. Following his hip bones downward, my eyes fell on his colossal erection. I swallowed convulsively, and my trepidation must have shown clearly on my face, because Edward smirked, brushing his fingers up and down my sides.

"Intimidated?" he asked smugly, already knowing the answer.

"A bit." I admitted shyly, running my hand down his chest and stopping at the waistband of his boxer-briefs. My fingers danced along the elastic before slipping underneath, and I looked up at Edward to see him watching me with wary eyes. With an innocent smile, I pulled his waistband two inches away from his body before releasing it, letting it snap back against his skin with a sharp crack. A low hiss escaped from between his clenched teeth, and he ripped my hand away from his waist, pinning it above my head.

"Shoes," he demanded in a clipped voice, and I immediately kicked them off, which resulted in a severe loss of height on my part. Now, instead of being eye-level with his neck, I was left staring at the gorgeous dips and lines of his chest, a fact that didn't bother me one bit.

In a bold move, I moved my head forward to brush my lips carefully over his nipple, and he responded with a growl as he picked me up and carried me over to the bed.

_Well it's about time_.

Edward practically threw me down on the huge bed, crawling up my body until he was hovering over me on all fours. Our heavy breathing cut through the silence of the room, and he sat back on his knees, tentatively reaching for the waistband of my practically nonexistent panties and pulling them down my legs with achingly slow movements. I fidgeted under his feather-light touch, and before I knew it, my thongs were being flung across the room, landing God knows where. Before I had time to protest that I was completely naked and he was still in his boxer-briefs, Edward was gone from my body, standing by the side of the bed and removing his last article of clothing. My breathing sped as he was fully revealed to me, and my center was nearly aching in anticipation.

I reached out and made a beckoning motion, and with that insanely sexy crooked grin on his face, Edward crawled back on top of me, capturing my mouth in a heated kiss. As he broke away from me, my name fell unexpectedly from his lips.

"Odette."

Well, not really _my_ name.

The rest of the night was filled with the sound of our slick flesh colliding, the shallow breaths ripping from our chests, and Edward's moans of a name that was not my own. In the back of my mind, I knew that it didn't seem right that he should be calling out for another woman as he worshipped my body. _Bella's _body. But Bella's body was too blissed out to allow me to care.

***

The warm sun streaming in through the windows caressed my face, gently waking me from the most restful sleep I'd ever had. I opened my eyes slowly, part of me wanting to sleep for just a bit longer. It _was _Saturday, after all. Maybe I could go back to sleep and get up in a few hours. Rolling over to glance at the clock on my bedside table, I noticed a few things. The sheets didn't feel like mine, this room didn't look like mine, and as I listened carefully, I could hear deep, steady breathing coming from the other side of the bed.

I flopped over in the bed to look toward the source of the breathing, and my eyes were met with one of the most glorious sights they'd ever known. A man was lying beside me, his reddish-brown hair shining brightly in the light of the midday sun. His chest was bare, rising and falling with each quiet breath he took. He was possibly the most beautiful man I'd ever seen. I wondered what I was doing in his bed…

And then the memories of last night hit me with the force of a bullet train. Me spilling my drinks all over his shirt…the way we danced in the club…how he kissed me…the feel of his hands all over my body…_Edward_. Oh, hell.

_Just relax, Bella_. _It's not that big of a deal, _my naïve side tried to reason with me._ So you had sex with a complete stranger. And now you're lying naked in his bed_. _Things could be worse._

Yeah. He could be ugly.

That's when I went into panic mode. My breathing sped, and my palms started sweating like crazy. What the hell was I thinking last night?! The only person I'd ever had sex with before last night was Mike, and I'd made him wait months before I'd agreed to do _anything_. I'd never been exactly what you'd call "easy", and I was appalled that one night with a good-looking, sweet-talking, panty-dampening sex god had shattered my entire record. And the worst part of it was that I didn't even have alcohol to blame. The whole evening, I'd had a shot and a Cosmopolitan, and being a college girl, I knew how to hold my liquor. I'd been drunk off Edward alone.

Oh God, but the _sex_… it was like nothing I'd ever experienced. Every little movement he made set off new waves of pleasure, and after each orgasm ended, it had felt like only seconds until I was coming undone once again, screaming his name at the top of my lungs. And then, no matter how exhausted I was after I came, I always wanted more. He would try to roll off of me to give me some breathing room, but I would just wrap my legs tighter around his waist, holding him deep inside me. And then we'd go at it all over again. When it was over, and we were both too spent to move a muscle, he'd pulled out of me and just held me in his arms as we drifted off to sleep. That's right. He'd fucking _cuddled_ me. Willingly. I hadn't even had to ask.

_That's beside the point! _The rational part of my being scolded. _The point is that you slept with a total stranger. You spent the night in his bed, Bella! How the hell do you think that makes you look?_

Like a whore. That's how it made me look. He probably thought I was some trashy, slutty, whore who slept with every guy who looked her way. And after he woke up, he would probably want to go again. He would expect me to just roll over on my back and spread my legs, willing him to fuck me like he had last night. Like I'd begged him to last night.

I had to leave. I had to get out of here before he woke up to find that the sexy, confident woman he'd slept with was just a shy little girl, afraid to let herself lose control.

Carefully, I pulled back the comforter on my side of the bed, swinging my legs around to place my feet gently on the floor. Trying to make sure that the sudden absence of my weight didn't alert Edward to the fact that I was leaving, I stood up as slowly as I could, making sure that the mattress didn't shift too much. I looked around the room, searching for my clothes. Fortunately, they were all scattered around the wall by his bedroom door, where we'd hastily stripped down last night. I tiptoed over to them and had started digging around for my panties before I remembered that he'd flung them across the room. I half-contemplated going to look for them, but then Edward moaned in his sleep and rolled over, his arms feeling around the bed for me.

Yeah. I could skip the underwear. No harm in going commando.

I got dressed quickly and slid my shoes onto my feet, turning one more time to look at Edward's sleeping form. He really was the most gorgeous man I'd ever seen, but my chagrin toward last night's activities kept me from feeling any sort of desire toward him right now.

As eager as I was to get out of there, it felt so wrong to leave him without any sort of farewell. I noticed a desk in the corner, so I walked over and quickly scribbled a note on a post it that I found, laying the small piece of paper on the bed where I'd been. I then turned and walked purposefully out of the apartment, away from Edward. Away from everything that had happened last night.

I caught a taxi back to my place, and I spent the entire ride beating myself up over what I'd done. How could I have been so careless? I was on the pill _and_ I'd made him use a condom, so pregnancy wasn't a possibility, but that didn't mean that Edward was clean. I mean, what if he had an STD or something? I would definitely be getting tested this week, I decided.

When the cab pulled up to my apartment complex, I threw the driver a twenty and raced through the lobby and into the elevator, willing it to go faster. Not soon enough I was on the fourth floor, and I hastily walked to my door, pulling out the key to unlock it. As soon as the lock clicked, I pushed the door in, throwing myself into my apartment and slamming the door behind me.

"There she is!" I heard Alice's voice from behind me, and I turned to see her on the couch, watching some show about makeovers and what styles were in and out. Rosalie was in the tiny kitchen pouring a cup of coffee, and once the steaming mug was in her hands, she walked toward me, her eyes appraising my body the whole time.

"So," Alice called from her spot on the couch. "How was last night? Did you and that total babe you left with have a nice evening?"

I tried to answer, or say anything, but my words caught in my throat as a fresh wave of embarrassment washed over me.

"Did you guys go to a coffee shop and have a nice long talk about the national debt?" she continued. "Or did he take you to a library so that you could chat about your favorite books?"

"Shut up, Alice," Rose commanded, her eyes still doing a head-to-toe scan. "I think she may have done a bit more with this one."

"Nuh-uh, Rose. This is Bella we're talking about. There's no way."

I bit my lip as Rosalie tried to look me in the eye, dropping my gaze to the ground.

"Al, she definitely slept with him," she said with confidence, grabbing my chin and trying to force my face upward. "She looks guilty. And she has that weird post-coital glow about her."

"No fucking way." I heard Alice get up from the couch and pad over to where we were standing near the doorway, and when I looked up, I saw her examining me as well. "Shit. I think you're right. Bella, did you have sex with him? And if the answer is 'yes', then how good was he?"

I ripped myself away from their interrogation, making my way down the hall toward my room.

"Bella, sweetie," Rose called after me. "It's okay. We've all done something like this before."

"Not me," I replied curtly before slamming the door forcefully.

After a long moment, I turned toward my room, my eyes immediately falling on the floor-length mirror on the wall across from me. My hair was a wreck, my dress was rumpled, and I looked like I was about to pass out. But besides all that, my eyes were wide, almost excited, and I realized that Rosalie was right. I _was_ glowing. And it made me sick.

I slumped down against my door then, and I cried. I cried because I was ashamed of myself, and because I'd thrown away all of my morals for one night of physical satisfaction. I cried because I felt…dirty. And I knew that I could take fifty showers in a row, and the filth would still sit heavily on my shoulders.

Most of all, I cried because I knew that, despite the wrongness of it all, last night had been the most incredible night of my entire fucking life.

**

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**

A/N: Well? What dost thou think, my dear readers?

**Tell me, tell me! I want to know!**

**Let me just warn you that it may be a while before I post Chapter Three. I'm still adjusting to college life, and things have been really hectic.**

**Please review!**

**Love you all.**


	3. As Pretty as the Past

**Author's Note: Eeek! Did you see that?! I told you it was going to be a long time before I posted again, but it didn't take me long at all! On a scale of one to ten, how thrilled are you? Because I know that I'm super psyched to be posting this chapter.**

**And I wanted to let you know that I have picture links posted on my profile. My Bella doesn't look like Kristen Stewart at all, but more like another celeb we know and love. I also have pictures of Bella's dress for her act.**

**So read, please!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight. If I did, I'd have a penthouse apartment, a red Volvo S60, a pair of legit RayBans, and a bigger aquarium for my fishie, Bram Stoker.**

* * *

Three weeks.

Three weeks since my integrity took a nosedive.

Three weeks since my libido overruled my better judgment.

Three weeks since I'd slept with Edward.

The past three weeks had been rather uneventful, classes and work being the only things that occupied my time. I hadn't gone out since that fateful evening, and although Alice and Rose had attempted on several occasions to coax me out of the sheltered confines of the apartment, I remained hidden in my room like a hermit, watching Food Network and devouring box after box of Strawberry Delight Frosted Mini Wheats. It was almost as though my whole life had been thrown off its axis by that one night, and I hated it. I hated how I couldn't look at myself in the mirror without remembering the way I had looked the morning after my one-night stand. I hated the way Alice and Rosalie tried to assure me that it was no big deal. Most of all, I hated the way I couldn't stop thinking about him.

Edward.

I dreamt about him nearly every night, and I usually woke with a sheen of sweat covering every inch of my body and a throbbing need between my thighs. It was awful in the most glorious way possible. Heavenly torture. Upon waking from such dreams, I would climb out of bed and head straight into the bathroom to indulge in an ice-cold shower.

Unfortunately, the showers were becoming less and less effective.

It was late afternoon, and I'd just woken up from one of my Ed-dreams, this one far more graphic than any of the ones I'd had so far. Upon regaining consciousness, I was horrified to find that my hand was inside my shorts, my fingers rubbing frantic circles against my clit in an attempt to alleviate some of the unbearable pressure that had taken up a seemingly permanent residence between my legs. Appalled that a dream could drive me to unconsciously pleasure myself, I yanked my hand out of my pants and crawled miserably out of bed and toward the sanctuary of my shower.

I stripped down quickly and turned the handle on the shower just enough to make the water flow, and, not even bothering to check the temperature, stepped in.

The bitterly cold water poured down onto the top of my head, turning my hair into an icy waterfall that cascaded down my back. A sigh escaped my lips as I shivered violently, and I quickly wrapped my arms around my chest, trying futilely to shield my body from the mercilessly freezing water.

I wanted to make the water warmer. I wanted it to burn me, scalding my skin as it made its way down my body and into the drain on the floor of the shower. I longed to be caressed by heat, rather than bitten by this cold.

Caressed…bitten…I thought of Edward. I remembered the way he slid down my body, much like the water that was pouring down from the showerhead at this moment. I could recall with perfect clarity the heat of his body as he lay on top of me in the tangled mess of sheets.

That's when I realized that I was wet.

And I don't mean from the shower.

How the hell was it that a cold shower was turning me on? Weren't they supposed to be like the miracle cure for arousal or something?

_Well, I guess there's no point in keeping the water cold_.

I reached for the handle and turned it toward the tiny "H" etched into the metal, the water immediately went from frigid to blissfully hot, and I groaned as it washed over me, only serving to fuel my insatiable desire.

I imagined Edward's hands sliding over me, and I mimicked the action using my own hands, starting at the tops of my thighs and pulling my hands upward. When I reached my breasts, I grasped them firmly, rolling my hardened nipples between my thumb and forefinger. Further down my body, I was on fire. My pussy was practically screaming to be touched, and I was in no mood to ignore its desperate pleas. I slid my right hand down my stomach, stopping as I reached the top of my slit. With a deep breath, I ran my index finger from top to bottom with just enough pressure that I could really feel it. I repeated this action until I couldn't take it anymore and I plunged two fingers deep inside myself, my head resting against the tile wall of the shower as I began pumping my fingers in a steady rhythm.

In...out…in…out…

Ed…ward…Ed…ward…

My own hand paled in comparison to his nimble fingers; long and graceful like those of a pianist. Although I would never know how well my sex god could play the piano, he surely knew how to play _me._ He always knew exactly where to touch—which keys to stroke—in order to send me over the edge; almost as if he'd had me many times before and had memorized the complete anatomy of my most intimate parts.

And even though his fingers got the job done, _nothing_ compared to his cock. He was big, huge even, but that wasn't what made me hot.

Now I'd only ever been with one other guy, but something told me that no man on earth knew how to use his dick like Edward. Holy shit. The only thing he had to do was pound into me a few times and I came from the very depths of my being, my toes curled and my fingers holding onto his shoulders for dear life.

Don't get me wrong: sex with Mike had been good, but I had never once reached an orgasm from penetration alone. There had always been some sort of direct clit stimulation to get me off, but with Edward…wow.

Back to reality.

I was close now, so very close. My fingers moved rapidly in and out of my slick passage, trying to bring me to the place I so desperately wanted to be. Without stopping the movement of my hand, I brought my other hand down to rub small but quick circles around my clit, and I cried out sharply as my inner walls clamped tightly around my fingers. I came hard, my knees shaking as I used my fingers to ride out my orgasm. When I came down from my high, I pressed my cheek to the shower wall, taking deep breaths in an attempt to calm myself.

A fresh wave of humiliation washed over me as I realized what I'd just done. Masturbation was no big deal to me—everyone does it occasionally—but the fact that I'd just gotten off to the memory of my one-night stand made me want to curl up into a ball and cry. In fact, I was just about to sink onto the floor of the shower when a loud knock sounded on the bathroom door.

"Bella? You okay? I heard shouting." Rosalie's voice called from the other side of the door. I blushed furiously as I turned off the shower, grabbing my towel off the rack and wrapping it securely around my body.

"Yeah, Rose. I'm fine. I just, uh…dropped the shampoo on my foot." I held onto the towel rack as I stepped out of the tub, swiftly crossing the bathroom to open the door. Rose was leaning against the doorjamb, her arms folded smugly across her chest and a sly smile on her gorgeous face.

"Is your shampoo named Edward?" she asked skeptically, and I could feel the heat creeping up my neck.

"Excuse me?"

"Edward, oh God!" she mimicked, closing her eyes and throwing her head back as though she were in the throes of passion. She laughed lightheartedly, but I felt like I was about to throw up. I hadn't even realized that I'd yelled his name when I came, and knowing that Rose had heard made me want to die of embarrassment.

My horror must have shown clearly on my face, because Rosalie's smile vanished as she wrapped her arms around me.

"Bella…" she began, but I really didn't want to have this conversation. Not now, not ever.

"I'm all wet; I don't want to get water on your clothes," I muttered, moving out of her grasp and turning in the direction of my bedroom. Before I could even take a step, however, her hand firmly grabbed my wrist. I turned to face her.

"I don't care about my clothes. I care about _you_. It's been three weeks; it's time you talked to someone about it." I was appalled.

"I'm not telling you about my one-night stand, Rosalie," I replied coldly.

"Whoa, Bella. Chill. I don't want details or anything, I just thought you might need to vent to someone." I said nothing. "You're my best friend, B. You can talk to me about anything."

I lifted my gaze to meet hers, and upon seeing the compassion and understanding in her sapphire eyes, I surrendered.

"It was awful, Rose," I gushed, burying my face in my hands. "Absolutely horrific."

"The sex?" I couldn't see her, but she sounded confused.

"God, no. The sex was…brilliant, to say the least. Fucking incredible."

"Was he a douchebag or something?" She paused. "Oh my God, Bella. He didn't force you to do something kinky, did he?"

"No, no. It was nothing like that." I closed the short distance between myself and the couch, plopping down onto the soft cushions. "He was the perfect gentleman. Sweet... attentive… tender…"

Rose moved to sit beside me, her eyebrows furrowed in thought.

"I don't see the problem, B. If the sex was wonderful and he was a great guy, why are you so damn depressed about all this? It sounds like the epitome of a perfect one-nighter."

"_That's_ the problem!" I groaned, throwing myself back onto the couch pillows. "I had a fucking one-night stand, Rosalie. I slept with a man that I'm never going to see again!"

"So? I've had one. It's not that big of a deal." She flipped her hair back over her shoulder and shrugged, and I just shook my head.

"That's _you_, Rose. You may think that it's nothing to be ashamed of, but for me…I'm such a goddamn prude, and this is like the ultimate nightmare for me. I had sex with a stranger. In my eyes, there's nothing worse than that."

Rosalie was silent after that, clearly unsure of what to say. We sat there quietly for several minutes, both of us trying to find something to fill the silence. Finally, I decided that I would be the one to speak.

"I can't stop thinking about it."

"You _need _to stop thinking about it. You're dwelling, and you need to just let it go," Rose said plainly, as if it were the most obvious thing on earth. I shook my head.

"No, you don't get it. I can't stop thinking about _him_…the way his hands felt on my skin…"

"Let it go," she repeated. "You're never going to see him again, so take it for what it was: a night of fantastic sex. You both enjoyed yourselves, and now it's over. I'm not trying to be a bitch, Bells, but you really just have to move on."

She was right, of course she was.

I sighed in defeat.

"I need to get ready for work," I mumbled, standing up from the couch and trudging into my bedroom. After slipping into a pair of yoga pants and a cami, I threw on my SU sweatshirt, grabbed my bag, and blew out of the room.

My shoes were sitting by the door, and I slid them on as I called to Rosalie, who was still seated on the couch.

"I'm out. I'll see you late tonight."

"'Kay. Have fun at work."

I made my way down to the street, where I walked the seven blocks from my place to The Topaz Lounge. The air was crisp and cold, and it cleared my senses, allowing me to think more clearly about my current dilemma. Out here, it seemed reasonable to believe that I could let this go.

And I _would_ let this go. What was done was done, and I couldn't un-sleep with Edward. I could, however, choose to rise above the situation and continue on with my life as though he'd never entered it at all.

A blast of hot air assaulted me as I entered The Topaz Lounge through the employee entrance in the back, and I brushed my still damp hair back from my shoulder. I loved my job, I really did. Everything about it thrilled me; the lights, the outfits, the people, but most of all, the heavy notes of the grand piano pounding in my chest as I sang my heart out.

I breathed in the woody, almost musty scent of the backstage area, taking note of the butterflies that were beginning to swarm in my stomach. I swear that, no matter how times I perform the same damn routine, I always get that feeling of nervous excitement within a few hours of taking the stage. And although it's sometimes a pain to be nervous, that same energy that scares the shit out of me also propels me forward, giving me the strength I need to take the crowd's breath away.

I walked briskly toward my dressing room, where I knew Angela would be waiting impatiently, makeup in hand, ready to perfect my performance look. Having gone to cosmetology school, Angie was an expert in anything beauty-related, and it took her a miniscule amount of time to transform me from plain Jane to Jazz Club Barbie.

I took the corner into my room a little too sharply and ran right into Angela, who dropped the dress she was holding in order to grab my shoulders. She laughed as she steadied me, and then her big hazel eyes almost bugged out of her head. Squealing excitedly, she sprinted over to the vanity and snatched up her hairspray before approaching me.

"Holy shit, Bella, what did you do to your hair? It looks perfect. Absolutely incredible."

Aiming the can toward my head, she sprayed like it was nobody's business, and soon there was a cloud of hairspray vapor engulfing my body.

"I don't know, Angie," I coughed, waving my hand in front of my face in hopes of finding some clean air. "I didn't do anything out of the ordinary. I showered, got out, got dressed, and walked here. The end."

Angela's perfectly shaped eyebrows came together, creating a tiny crease in the center of her brow.

"You shouldn't walk outside in February with a wet head, silly. You'll catch your motherfucking death out there. However, I'll let you off the hook this time, because you just made my job so much easier. I don't think I have to do a damn thing to your hair tonight. It's just gorgeous."

I leaned around her to take a peek in the mirror across the room from me, wanting to see what all the fuss over my hair was about.

"Oh my God."

The wind had dried my hair into an artfully messy pile of curls, and my bangs had been blown back from my face to reveal the smooth skin of my forehead. All in all, it looked fantastic. I could be the poster child for Herbal Essences.

"Told ya," Angela boasted, pulling me toward the make-up chair and forcing me down into it. "Now all we have to do is get some makeup on your pretty little face, squeeze you into your sexy new dress, and throw you out on stage. You'll have those men eating out of the palm of your hand."

"Ugh, Angie _please_. No men. I've had it with them." She spread a thin moisturizer over my face, and I mulled over her previous words. "Wait…did you say _new dress_?" She looked smug.

"That's right, doll. I had a little chat with Tyler about how your other dress was far too faded to perform in, and he put me in charge of your new wardrobe." She danced away from me to the clothing rack in the corner, flicking through a few hangers before finding what she was looking for. "Ah, here we are."

She turned back around, and the dress she held in her hands was beautiful. It was long, sparkly, red, and _so_ not me. It was strapless, and it looked like it was much longer than floor length, which meant that it was a wardrobe malfunction or a sprained ankle waiting to happen.

"What do you think?" Angela prodded, peeking out from behind the dress. "It's great, huh?"

"It's stunning," I answered hesitantly. "But…do you _really_ think I'll be able to pull it off? It looks a little…dangerous." Yeah, with that thigh-high slit up the side of the dress, I was in danger of showing a little more skin than the audience paid for.

Angela rolled her eyes before placing the dress back in its rightful place on the rack. "Bella, sweetie, you know I love you, but you worry too damn much. Just because you have a pussy doesn't mean you have to act like one. You've got the curves—" She made the gesture for a curvy body to emphasize her point. "You've got the rack...hell, you've even got those kickass long legs. This dress was practically made for you, sugar. Embrace it."

I was still skeptical, but it didn't show as I nodded my head.

"Wonderful. Now let's finish your makeup."

A short while later, my hair was set and my makeup was completed, and I turned my head so I could see myself from every angle.

"Fabulous work, Angie, as usual."

"Thanks, baby girl. You know I try." She tossed her hair back over her shoulder with a light laugh, then turning to put her things away. "You might want to go warm up now. I'm sure Laurent is already there waiting for you, the impatient lug that he is."

After giving her an appreciative hug, I walked over to the practice room where, sure enough, Laurent was pacing the room frantically, flipping through sheet music and tugging on the end of his dreadlocks. He didn't look like much of an accompanist, but I'd never met anyone who could play like he could. He looked up as I walked into the room, and I saw his shoulders drop in relief.

"Bella," he sighed, a knowing smile coloring his voice. "Cutting it a little close, aren't we?"

I glanced at the clock hanging on the wall behind the piano. "It's just nearly 7:00. I don't go on until 8:00." Laurent just shook his head.

"What do I always tell you?"

I heaved an exasperated sigh.

"To be early is to be on time. To be on time is to be late."

"Precisely." He stalked away from me and took a seat at the piano. "Now let's get you warmed up."

We ran up and down the scale a few times, mainly just until Laurent felt that I was prepared to step out on stage and sing like my life depended on it. He also had me do a few articulation drills to loosen my tongue (I always joke with him about how dirty that sounds—he just rolls his eyes).

Laurent's phone rang just as we were finishing up, and he quickly excused himself from the room to answer it, mumbling something about his wife calling him at work. As soon as he was gone, I wandered toward the piano bench and sat, marveling over the expanse of ivory keys before me. I practically worshipped the piano, and although I wasn't a genius like Laurent, I knew my way around the scale. Holding my fingers mere centimeters above the keys, I closed my eyes as I tried to recall the notes of a song that had been haunting me for the past few months.

Without a thought, I pressed my fingers down onto the keys, slowly pounding out the fragmented tune that had been building itself up in my head since Mike had left me. It was sorrowful, full of pain and loss, but I hadn't been able to finish it. There was just some key component that was missing, and I couldn't figure out what it was.

I sang along with my notes, trying to incorporate some of my regret from the last few weeks into my lyrics.

_The sky looks pissed; the wind talks back._

_My bones are shifting in my skin,_

_And you, my love are gone._

_This room seems wrong; the bed won't fit._

_I just can't seem to operate,_

_When—_

Laurent breezed back in then, and I immediately stopped playing, my hands dropping into my lap. I didn't play for anyone. I could get on stage and sing someone else's lyrics until my lungs gave out, but I couldn't bear to share something so raw with an audience. If there was one thing I hated, it was feeling vulnerable, and singing my own lyrics made me feel completely naked.

"Bella, I'm so sorry," Laurent apologized, looking completely and utterly frazzled.

"What is it?"

"My wife—she just went into labor. I have to go to her. I'm sorry, Bella."

I'd seen Laurent's wife Irina on several occasions, and although she seemed like a nice enough woman, I didn't think she liked me very much. At any rate, I couldn't keep him from his wife's side if she was giving birth to their first child.

"Please, don't apologize. Of course I understand. Go. Your wife needs you."

"Oh, Bella, _thank you_. You have no idea how much this means to me."

"Laurent, you're about to be a father. What kind of person would I be if I made you stay here and play piano for my act?" He smiled and pulled me into a tight embrace, releasing me only seconds later.

"You're incredible. And I called an old college buddy of mine to come temp for your act. He's brilliant; better than me, even. He told me that he can be here in half an hour, so you'll have an accompanist. The show must go on, after all."

"Thank you, Laurent, but do you really think he can learn my songs in such a short amount of time? I go on in forty-five minutes."

"Trust me. He's pure genius when it comes to the piano. He'll know your songs…probably better than I do. Don't take to him too much, thought; I'll be back in a few weeks. You know, after I help Irina out with the baby for a while." I shook my head rapidly, appalled by the idea of replacing Laurent.

"No one is as good as you. Now go to Irina."

He leaned over and kissed me swiftly on the cheek before grabbing his coat off of the hook by the door.

"Thank you again, Bella. I'll call you as soon as I can."

"Don't worry about it. And congratulations!"

And he was gone.

I shuffled my way back to the dressing room and picked up the copy of _Wuthering Heights_ that I always kept here for times like these when I had nothing to do other than sit. Curling up on the couch, I flipped open to my spot and tried to read with little success. My eyes couldn't focus on the words, and I soon found myself slipping into a light sleep.

"Wake up, Bella. Bella! Isabella Swan, you need to be on that stage in five minutes!"

My eyes snapped open and I sat up, blinking a few times to bring the room into focus. Angela was sitting in front of me, a panicked look on her face.

"Shit, I'm gonna have to try to salvage your hair. It's not _that_ messed up. Nothing a little hairspray can't fix." She attacked me with the can of hairspray then, and I held my breath until the fumes had subsided enough for me to breathe again. "There. That'll do. Now let's get you into your dress."

I slipped into the long red sheath of fabric, and after Angela zipped the back up for me, I faced the mirror.

It was perfect. The dress clung to my every curve, emphasizing ones I didn't even know existed. The slit in the left side of the dress came up to mid-thigh, showing just the perfect amount of skin for my taste, and there was a short fabric train that trailed behind me on the floor.

"Just say it: I'm the shit. I'm the Einstein of fashion."

"It really is perfect, Angie. You did wonderfully." I turned to look at it from the back, loving the way the tightness of the dress made my ass look.

"Yeah yeah, I know. Now get out on stage. Your public awaits."

I slipped on my shoes and carefully made my way out of the room, making an extreme effort not to fall on my face.

"Evening, Bella," the stage manager Eric greeted cheerfully. "You ready?"

"As I'll ever be."

I took a deep breath and watched as the lights in the house went down and a lone spotlight shone on center stage.

Showtime.

EPOV

I sat at the grand piano in a dark room, sliding my fingers noiselessly across the smooth keys as I took a deep breath. The piano was my passion. Nothing could compare to the feel of the keys yielding to the pressure of my hands or the strong notes that emerged as I played. Until recently, I thought that feeling the keys under my fingers was the best thing in the world.

Until I met _her_.

Odette.

She was perfect, nothing short of angelic, and for one night, she'd been _mine_.

And now, after that one night, I knew that I had been wrong in thinking that there was no better feeling than the keys beneath my hands. The most incredible feeling was that of _Odette_ under my hands, her satin skin warm and soft and inviting as my name fell from her luscious lips.

She was everything I could have ever asked for, and that night, I _gave_ her everything, only to wake up and find the woman of my dreams gone. Had she been nothing _but_ a dream? Could my subconscious mind really have created such a heavenly figure?

Absolutely not.

When I pressed my face into the pillow she had slept on and inhaled, I could smell her delicate floral scent. It practically radiated from the fabric, and I clung to this aroma like a drowning man clung to his life preserver. In a sense, I _was_ drowning. I could barely hold my head above the surface of the swirling memories from that night, and I knew that at any second the current could pull me under.

That night with Odette had been about so much more than just the sex. I wanted her, but not just in the physical sense. I wanted her in every way: physically, yes, but also emotionally, intellectually… I wanted to know her. What was her favorite color? Her favorite food? What kind of music did she listen to, and who did she admire? And in turn, I wanted her to know _me_. My dreams, my aspirations, my fears…everything. No, it wasn't just about the most incredible sex I'd ever had in my life.

And I was determined to find her.

A single spotlight lit up the center of the stage, and I sucked in a deep breath to calm myself.

"Ladies and gentlemen," a voice announced from off-stage. "The Topaz Lounge is proud to present Seattle's very own Isabella Swan."

I hadn't been expecting my pal Laurent to call and ask me to fill in for him at his Saturday night job at The Topaz Lounge, but when he explained his predicament to me, I couldn't refuse. His wife was in labor for Christ's sake, and I wasn't about to reject him when he so desperately needed someone to cover for him.

I'd heard Laurent mention this Swan girl several times before, always raving about how talented and brilliant she was. Being a producer at a record company, I'm constantly hearing about how "talented" and "brilliant" someone is, but the truth was that most times, they were simply…average.

Regardless, I knew her songs well and agreed to accompany her act. Despite my request to rehearse with the girl before the show began, Laurent assured me that Isabella, or Bella, as he called her, was perfectly capable of adjusting to whatever I played. I arrived at the club with only 15 minutes to spare, and I immediately went to work on the pieces for her act, scanning over every note and chord until I was sure I could play them blindfolded.

And now I sat on stage, listening to the tapping of heels approaching center stage. When the clicking stopped, I gave her a few seconds to breathe before I played the intro to her first number. As I neared the part where she was to begin singing, I held my breath in anticipation.

_Come on babe, why don't we paint the town?_

Holy shit.

_And all that jazz._

Holy fucking shit.

_I'm gonna rouge my knees and roll my stockings down._

Holy motherfucking shit_._

_And all that jazz._

Her voice was breathtaking. I literally couldn't breathe as I played and she sang on, her sweet, melodic voice filling up the club.

_Start the car; I know a whoopee spot_

_Where the gin is cold, and the piano's hot._

_It's just a noisy hall where there's a nightly brawl._

_And all. That. Jazz.  
_I swear to God that I'd never heard anything like her in my life. If I didn't know better, I would have thought that I had died and gone to heaven, and she was nothing less than an angel sent to serenade me.

An angel singing about jazz and liquor? Get real, Cullen.

_Slick your hair and wear your buckled shoes._

_And all that jazz._

_I hear that Father Dipp is gonna blow the blues._

_And all that jazz._

_Hold on hon, we're gonna bunny hug._

_I bought some aspirin down at United Drug_

_In case we shake apart and want a brand new start_

_To do. That. Jazz._

My fingers slid easily along the keys, and Isabella kept pace like I'd accompanied her all her life. The way her voice sounded up against the notes of the piano sent shivers down my spine, and I had to fight to keep my focus on the notes on the page rather than this siren's voice that was beckoning me toward center stage.

_Oh, you're gonna see your sheba shimmy shake._

_And all that jazz._

_Oh, she's gonna shimmy 'til her garters break._

_And all that jazz._

_Show her where to park her girdle._

_Oh, her mother's blood would curdle_

_If she'd hear her baby's queer for_

_All. That. Jazz._

I wanted to see her. I wanted to be able to pair a face with this miraculous voice, but I couldn't bring myself to look away from the sheet music. If I stopped playing, surely this angel would cease to sing, and that would be a crime worthy of capital punishment. She should never stop singing.

So, rather than take a peek and risk having her be silent, I imagined what she would look like. Long, flowing brown hair, chocolate brown eyes warmer and deeper than anything known to man, and a smile that lit up the whole fucking room. She looked like Odette.

I felt a familiar ache begin in my groin as I imagined Odette singing to me, her eyes shining and a rosy blush covering her cheeks. The mental image was almost more than I could take, and I could feel my blood rushing downward to fuel my growing erection.

How fucking embarrassing.

_Find a glass, we're playing fast and loose._

_And all that jazz._

_Right up here is where I store the juice._

_And all that jazz._

_Come on babe, we're gonna brush the sky._

_I betcha Lucky Lindy never flew so high._

'_Cause in the stratosphere how could you lend an ear_

_To all. That. Jazz._

Fortunately, all eyes were on Isabella as she neared the song's end, and I heard her heels tap against the floor as she walked toward the piano. My heart thundered in my chest and my dick throbbed painfully at the thought of seeing the possessor of this unearthly voice, and my fingers moved across the keys with a new fervor. The ending had to be good.

She sat on the top of the piano, her back to me, and I saw the soft, curling cascade of brown hair that fell down the smooth planes of her back, much like Odette's hair had looked that night.

Focus, Edward.

_No, I'm no one's wife, but,_

_Oh, I love my life._

She leaned back a bit more, and I saw her cross one creamy-skinned leg seductively over the other, her dress falling open to reveal every inch of her mile-long legs. My cock twitched in my pants, and I fought to get a decent breath.

_And all._

_That._

_Jazz._

As she held out the final note, she reclined fully on the piano, her long, lean body spread across the black wood. I almost came in my pants.

Almost.

The audience's wild applause broke me out of my reverie, and Isabella turned her head to smile at me in appreciation.

My heart stopped.

It was her.

The beautiful heart-shaped face that had haunted my dreams for the past three weeks, that perfect nose, forehead, cheekbones…it was all right in front of me. Her brown eyes, glowing with excitement, widened in shock, and her full, soft lips parted as a tiny gasp escaped her. A scarlet blush painted its way onto her surreally beautiful face, and for a moment, time stood still.

Odette.

**

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A/N: How did I do? Did you love it? Hate it?

**Let me know! There are a bunch of you reading, and only a select few reviewing. I only got one review for the last chapter. One.**

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**Love you all.**


	4. A Ship In The Blue

**Author's Note: Hey there, everyone. Long time, no post, I know, but I hope that this chapter is worth the wait. **

**So have at it, my fabulous readers. And make sure you tell me what you think when you've finished reading.**

**Disclaimer: I own my own ideas, but alas, that is all. Twilight isn't mine.**

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No way.

No _fucking_ way.

Honestly, you've got to be kidding me.

My first number had gone off without a single hitch. I was on key the entire time, I didn't trip over my new dress, and the temporary accompanist played perfectly. His tempo wasn't too fast or too slow, and the little personal flairs he put into the music added a whole new dimension to the song I thought I knew by heart. As much as I really hated to say it, he may have been better than Laurent, and I was certainly looking forward to working with him for the next month or so.

And then, as the song ended, I turned around to flash him a tiny smile.

The first thing I noticed was that shock of disheveled bronze hair that made him look as though he'd just finished the best sack session of his life. As my eyes traveled downward, they locked with those breathtakingly gorgeous emerald irises. His eyes were so deep that I couldn't help but feel like I was drowning within the depths of them. And his lips…oh God, his lips. They were full, but not too full, and perfectly shaped, and as my eyes traced the outline of them, I was assaulted by vivid memories of the way those very lips had felt against mine. His taste had been unlike anything I'd ever known—sweet like candy, but tangy and irresistible at the same time. My gaze drifted further down his body, past his perfectly sculpted torso hidden by his dress shirt and jacket, and settled on the rather large bulge that was now tenting the front of his slacks. A small gasp made its way through my lips, and I caught my bottom lip between my teeth as I brought my eyes up to meet his once more. Something flashed across his face then, and I caught another glimpse of it as it sparked in his eyes.

What _was_ that? Recognition, of course, but there was something else. Lust, maybe? Did he want me now like he had that night? I searched deeper, and behind the ghosting desire I saw a hint of something entirely different.

Confusion. Anger.

Wait…_anger_?

Why would he be angry? I let him use my body for a night of physical gratification, and now he had the audacity to be angry with me? For _what_?! Was he irritated because we'd crossed paths and he had been expecting to never see me again?

_Or maybe he's angry because he just figured out that you lied to him._

Yeah, that could be it.

Come to think of it, I suppose that _would_ be a legitimate reason for him to be mad. As far as I knew, he'd been completely honest with me, and I didn't even have the guts to give him my real name. Sleep with him, sure, but tell him my name? Out of the question. Of course he'd be pissed, and frankly, I couldn't blame him.

I sat there in stunned silence for what seemed like an eternity, until Edward's long fingers swept across the keys and the intro to the next song emerged from the vast instrument I was seated upon.

I snapped back to reality with a start, immediately taking my position for my next number. This song was one of the sexier ones I performed, and it required me to be sprawled across the piano, showing just enough leg to catch the attention of the audience's male population. I rolled so that I was on my side facing the house, and the slit in my dress fell open to reveal the pale skin of my thigh. Casting a quick glance in Edward's direction, I watched as his eyes widened and his tongue swept across his lower lip.

Without warning, my panties were on fucking fire. I felt so hot…_down there_ that I thought I might literally burst into flames. Memories of the things he did with his tongue rushed through my brain, and I got so caught up in the reminiscing that I almost missed my cue. Thankfully, I caught myself and began singing.

_The minute you walked in the joint_

_I could see you were a man of distinction, _

_A real big spender._

_Good looking, so refined._

_Say, wouldn't you like to know_

_What's going on in my mind?_

_So let me get right to the point._

_I don't pop my cork for every guy I see._

As I neared the climax of the song; the part that I really had to belt out, I sat up and turned to look at Edward. He was completely focused on the notes on the page, his brows furrowed in concentration and his whole body moving with the force of his playing. One-night stand be damned, I'd never seen him look more beautiful than he did right then.

The fact that I was being watched by a crowd of people slipped my mind, and in that moment, there was only Edward.

I sang for him.

_Hey, big spender._

His eyes snapped up from the sheet music and locked with mine, and it took every single ounce of my control not to leap across the piano and tackle him to the ground in a passionate fit of lust.

_Spend a little time with me_.

The rest of my performance passed in a blur; the only moments that stood out were the ones when I could feel Edward's eyes on me or hear his sharp intake of breath as I showed a little more skin. Before I knew, I was off stage and headed at full speed toward my dressing room, eager to put some distance between myself and this god-like creature (Edward: the Washingtonian god of sex and piano) that I had so recently thought was out of my life for good.

I stopped for two seconds to slip my shoes off of my feet so that I wouldn't fall and break my neck at my frantic pace, and I didn't even bother to pick them up to carry back to the dressing room with me. I just left them lying backstage, where Eric would hopefully find them and bring them back to my closet. Gathering the excess material of my dress in my hands, I darted back the hallway toward my room, the thin nylon fabric of my pantyhose catching on the wood of the backstage floor.

Let me tell you, I had never been so happy to see the plain wooden door of my dressing room in my life. I threw it open and launched myself into the room, slamming it shut behind me and flipping the lock. An exhale of relief slipped through my clenched teeth and I turned to see Angie sprawled lazily across the couch, her face buried in a Cosmo magazine.

"Damn, darlin', I didn't know you could move that quickly without falling down. I swear I just heard your last number end not thirty seconds ago." I reached back to unzip my dress while she spoke, letting the sparkly red garment fall to the ground. "Did you _see_ that gorgeous hunk of man meat that Laurent got to temp for him? Well, I mean, _of course_ you saw him…you were on stage with him after all…but _seriously_, that boy is a big slice of sexy pie…come to think of it, I wouldn't mind if he was served to me on a platter with some whipped cream." She groaned and threw the magazine on the coffee table before turning her attention to me. By this time, I had already squeezed into the outfit I came in and was looking desperately around for my purse. "Bella! Calm down, doll! What the hell are you in such a rush for, anyway? Wait…I know…you want to go schmooze with pretty boy, don't you?"

I stared at her, my eyes wide.

"What? He's damn fine, B. If I wasn't engaged to Ben, I would be all over—"

"I slept with him, Angie!"

Silence.

Angela looked nothing short of flabbergasted.

"Isabella Swan, you mean to tell me that you had sex with that…that _god_? Well, fuck me sideways! When?! When did this happen?!" She gasped, covering her mouth with her hand. "You two had a quickie backstage didn't you? Right before you went on, he saw you and couldn't resist your breathtaking looks, and you made sweet, sweet love on the floor—"

I stopped her before she could fall any further into her concocted fantasy.

"No. No, it wasn't tonight."

"Then when?!"

"A few weeks ago," I admitted reluctantly, a bit ashamed of my pathetic tale. "I met him at Onyx and we went back to his place for the night. I left before he woke up the next morning—shit! I can't believe he's here! What are the fucking odds, Angie?! What are the odds that _he's_ my temp, huh?"

As the last words left my mouth, I realized that I was breathing heavily, my chest heaving with every breath and my heart hammering in my chest. Angela said nothing as she walked slowly toward me, wrapping me up in her arms.

"It's alright, sweetie. Shhh."

"It's not alright. I can't believe this."

She stepped away from me and placed her delicate hands on my shoulders, holding me at arm's length.

"Bella, I'm not going to tell you to stop worrying, because I know that it's in your nature to freak out about every little thing. I _am_ going to tell you, however, to just…see what happens." I tried to protest, but she slapped a hand over my mouth. "No, no. Just listen to me. Fate's a crazy thing, baby doll. Every single thing happens for a reason, including Gorgeous out there. So don't flip shit about something that could end up being good for you, okay?"

She kissed me swiftly on the cheek before reaching over to grab her coat and purse off the chair.

"I'll see you next week, girly. Remember what I said."

I was outside just minutes later, the air stinging my cheeks as I made my way briskly across the parking lot. It probably wasn't the brightest idea for me to walk home alone at night, seeing as it was dark and we were in the middle of the city, but I had my hand in my pocket, clutched around the tiny can of pepper spray I always carried with me. I walked as fast as my legs could carry me, and I could see my breath in the frigid February air as I neared the sidewalk. Suddenly, a hand was firmly on my shoulder, and I pulled my hand out of my pocket as I spun around and aimed the pepper spray at my pursuer.

"Shit!" he yelled, clearly startled, and immediately retracted his hand and took several haphazard steps away from me.

It was Edward.

Of course.

"Jesus Christ, Edward!" I gasped, my hand flying to my chest to calm my raging heart. "You scared the shit out of me. What the hell were you thinking, sneaking up on me like that?"

His expression went abruptly from alarmed to cynical.

"Well, I was _thinking_ that I was going to yell out to you and ask you to wait, but I realized that I didn't know what name to call."

Fuck.

He was pissed.

"Edward, I—"

"_Isabella_? Is that a stage name, or do you just go by 'Odette' when you think you can get away with fooling suckers like me?" He turned his back to me, and I heard him heave a sigh as he ran a hand through that beautiful mess of hair.

"Please…let me explain."

"Why should I?" he asked quietly without moving, his shoulders squared tensely and his hands clenched at his side. "Why should I care what you have to say to me?"

My temper flared at his nonchalant anger. "If you don't care what I have to say, then why did you even bother approaching me? Why waste your time if you don't give a shit anyways?"

He spun on me then, his body shaking and his face contorted with rage. I fought desperately against the urge to step away from him.

"Why bother?" His voice was still low, filled with an icy venom that sent a shiver through my body. "Because _I_ have some things to say to _you_. Do you have any clue—any fucking idea at all—what I went through when I woke up and found you gone? Do you know how it feels to wonder if the best damn night of your life was a fucking dream? Or what it was like to tell my friends that the angel I'd had my eye on all night left me before I could wake up and prove to her that I wasn't just some slime ball who wanted to fuck her and toss her out? I don't think you do. So no, I don't give a fuck what you think right now, because you put me through absolute _hell_."

Having deluded myself over the past three weeks into believing that Edward was a dickhead out for a night of commitment-free sex, it had never occurred to me what he might have actually thought of the whole situation. I had never even considered the possibility that _I _might have hurt _him_.

"You know," he continued, his expression softer now. "I had the worst time trying to figure out why you'd felt the need to leave before I woke. At the club, you'd seemed like epitome of the perfect girl; smart, beautiful, _honest_…And when I woke up to an empty bed, I immediately started making excuses for you; concocting emergencies that you'd had to tend to. Your friend was in a car crash…your grandmother's condition had taken a turn for the worse…your dog died…" He trailed off, shaking his head. "But in the back of my mind, I couldn't help but wonder if the previous night at the club had all been an act; a clever scheme to worm your way into my bed. And now…let me just say that it fucking sucks to find out that my theory was right. But I'll tell you one thing, Isabella, or Odette, or whoever you are…you're a damn good actress."

He turned to walk away, and I was helpless to do anything but watch him go. My legs wouldn't carry me forward, and I tried to tell him to come back, but my voice seemed to catch in my throat each time I tried to form a word. Finally, I was able to emit some sort of noise, but it was only a small strangled cry that sounded through the bitter air.

It was enough.

Edward stopped, halfway across the parking lot, and looked back at me from over his shoulder, one eyebrow raised in question.

I opened my mouth to speak, but only managed a whisper.

"I was ashamed."

He was by my side in a matter of seconds, bending down slightly so that he was eye to eye with me.

"What did you say?" he asked gently, all traces of fury gone from his perfect voice.

I cleared my throat quietly, praying silently that my words wouldn't fail me this time.

"I was ashamed."

"Of what?"

I swallowed convulsively, looking down at my shoes.

"Of myself…my behavior…I couldn't believe that I'd been so…so…_forward_." I raised my eyes to meet Edward's, only to find skepticism in the brilliant orbs. "You don't understand, Edward. I'm not _that_ girl. I'm not the one who will sleep with anyone who has two legs and a bit of charm and wit. When I woke up beside you the next morning, I was horrified by what I'd done. The only thing I could think of was getting out of there before you awoke to find that I wasn't the sexy, confident girl that I had turned into around you."

He was silent for a moment, and I just stood there looking up at him while the wind whipped loose strands of my hair around my face, waiting for him to speak.

Finally, he did.

"If only you would have waited…if you would have stayed…you would have found out that I'm not _that_ guy. I'm not going to lie to you and say that I hadn't thought about sex with you while we were at the club…I could imagine the way it would feel to have your body pinned under mine, but I wasn't going to pursue it. I had planned to ask for your number and suggest that we get coffee sometime, not ask you back to my apartment for the night. But when you asked if we could leave, I couldn't refuse; it was literally impossible for me to make myself say no to you. I'm sorry now that my decision to encourage rather than reject you has caused you such turmoil. I never should have said yes, and I apologize."

"Do you think I'm incapable of controlling my primal urges or something?" I blurted before I could stop myself. "Edward, I _wanted_ to leave with you. I wasn't drunk or stoned or in a wrong state of mind when I asked if we could get out of that club. The only thing I could think about was getting closer to you, and I didn't even stop to consider how I would feel about my actions the next day…or the next week…or the next three weeks. In that moment, I wanted you, and nothing was going to keep me from having you. So please don't apologize to me as if it's your fault, because it isn't. I have no one to blame but myself."

The silence stretched between us once again, but it was calmer this time; more peaceful.

"Can I ask you something?" he inquired after several long minutes.

"Anything."

He hesitated briefly before flashing that heavenly beautiful crooked grin.

"What's your name?"

I sighed, returning the smile.

"Bella Swan."

"It's nice to finally meet you, Bella." He held out his hand for me, and I placed mine in it, rejoicing in the feeling of his skin on mine. "I don't believe we got a proper introduction the last time."

Memories of "the last time" flooded my mind's eye, and I felt my face heat up as a blush painted my cheeks pink. Edward cocked his head to the side as dropped my hand, reaching out to brush his fingers over my cheekbone. His fingertips ghosted over my skin, leaving a trail of invisible fire in their wake.

"I remember this," he mused to himself as he pulled his hand away from my face. "I thought it was so fucking adorable the way you blushed every time I touched you. And you know, it still is."

A gust of wind whipped across my face, and I pulled my jacket tighter around my body to shield myself from the bitter night air. There was an irrational part of me that longed have Edward scoop me up in his arms and protect me from the cold, but I immediately disbanded the feeling. I needed to get away from Edward before I did something stupid like allow myself to fall once again for his charm.

"I…um…I should go. My friend always waits up for me, and I don't want her to worry. It was…uh…nice talking to you. I guess I'll see you next Saturday." I made to walk away, but he reached out unexpectedly and grabbed my wrist, spinning me to face him once again.

"You're _walking_ home…by yourself…_at night_? Are you really that daft?"

I balked at his insult of my intelligence, wrenching my arm away from him.

"I do it every weekend. I'll be fine." My words came out a little sharper than I intended, and I registered the shock that crossed Edward's flawless face as he tried to backtrack.

"I wasn't—you don't—I didn't mean it that way. I'm sorry, I just meant that it seems a bit unsafe for you, an attractive young woman, to be walking alone in the city at night. I apologize for any offense; it wasn't my intent at all."

Satisfied with his sincere apology, I relaxed my defensive stance and flipped my hair back over my shoulder, allowing a small smile to grace my lips. "It's alright. And I'm sorry I got so short with you. I just hate it when people underestimate my ability to make decisions for myself."

"Yeah, I got that impression earlier." He chuckled and the sound was so beautiful that I forced myself to take a step backwards, preventing any hasty or rash behavior such as throwing him on the ground and having my way with him.

"So…I'll see you next weekend." I had turned and taken several steps in the direction of my apartment when I heard him call out to me.

"Can I give you a ride home?"

I turned back to eye him incredulously and he shrugged his shoulders, as nonchalant as if he'd just asked me what time it was.

"What?" he asked in response to my disbelieving stare. "I would feel a lot better if you would just let me drive you. That way I'd _know _that you made it home safely."

My eyes narrowed infinitesimally, and I idly wondered if this was just some ploy to get me back to his place and into his bed once again.

"Please?" he persisted.

"What's it to you if I make it home alright? Why do you care so much?"

For a moment, it looked as if I'd caught him off guard with my simple inquisition. His brows furrowed, and he briefly caught his bottom lip between his teeth as though he were deep in thought.

"I don't know why," he finally answered. "I just do."

His simple honesty ate away at my defenses, and I caved.

"Okay."

A beatific smile spread slowly across his face, and he reached into his pocket for his keys.

"Great. I'm parked over here."

Before I knew, we were driving down the street at a speed well over the legal limit, and my hands were clutching desperately at the edges of the seat. Had he been this much of a speed demon the last time I rode in the car with him? I decided that he probably had, but I'd just been far too aroused to notice or care.

"Are you alright over there?" Edward's voice sounded worried, but I couldn't answer him as a flashback stole through my mind.

"_Sorry," he said smoothly, his finger rubbing circles on my sensitive flesh. "You just looked a bit uncomfortable over there."_

"_Uh-huh," I choked out, trying not to focus on his fingers inching slowly up my thigh. _

"_What's wrong?" He sounded amused, as though he knew exactly what my problem was. I closed my eyes and worked on keeping my breathing even, but then his hand reached the hem of my dress. _

"_Odette? Are you alright?" His fingers played with the fabric before slipping underneath it, tracing intricate patterns up my leg._

"_Yeah," I gasped. "Fine."_

"_Really? Because you seem sort of…uptight."_

_He stroked the inside of my thigh and I shifted in the seat so that my legs were parted a little more, granting him better access. He snickered before removing his hand completely, and I looked at him in panic. What a bastard! Was he trying to kill me?_

"_Don't worry, sugar, we're almost there. And then I can help you relax."_

"Bella?" I shook my head, trying to dispel the desire that still lingered after my flashback.

"Sorry. What?"

"You just look nervous. Is everything okay?" I gulped.

"Well, to be perfectly honest, your driving kind of scares the shit out of me." He laughed heartily, and the sound immediately soothed my nerves.

"I always drive like this, and I've never been in a single accident." He glanced over, throwing a wink in my direction. "I promise to get you home in one piece."

I was silent as I felt my underwear grow wet.

Shit. What was this man doing to me?

Not long after, we pulled up at my apartment building and Edward put the car in park. I smiled over at him, and he cleared his throat nervously. Oh God. What was he going to say?

"Listen, Bella…there was something I wanted to ask you about…"

Fuck. He was going to ask me out. I would say yes, and we would have a lovely evening, topped off by another round of earth-shattering sex. If the words came out of his mouth, I wouldn't be able to refuse. I had to stop him.

"Edward," I interrupted, the words flowing out so fast that _I_ could barely follow them. "You seem like a great guy, but I think that as long as we're working together, we should try to keep our relationship strictly professional. I just don't think it would be a good idea."

One of his eyebrows arched higher than the other as he cocked his head slightly to the side, eyeing me curiously.

"Okay…that's all very nice, but I was going to ask you about another matter entirely." My cheeks flushed a brilliant red.

"Oh. Well…continue, then." I held my breath as I waited for him to proceed.

"How would you feel about coming into CastleMark to have a meeting with Aro, Caius, and Marcus?"

A beat passed in silence.

"Why?"

Edward snickered, amused by my obvious cluelessness.

"I want to get you a record deal."

I blinked.

"Once again, _why_?"

"Because you have the most incredible, beautiful, and purest voice I've ever heard in my life, and such talent shouldn't go to waste. Please let me set up a meeting for you."

A laugh left my lips, but it was a sound of disbelief rather than humor.

"I'm not nearly good enough for a record deal. Thank you, Edward, but I'm going to have to pass."

"Why? Bella, I've been in this business for years, and you have what it takes!"

I shook my head.

"I couldn't. Between classes and work, I just don't know how I would manage. I appreciate your most generous offer, I really do, but I can't. I'm sorry."

He sighed, sensing that I wasn't about to budge.

"Alright. Fine. But if you change your mind…"

"You'll be the first to know. But please don't look for it to happen."

A sad smile played across his features. "Yes ma'am. But the offer stands, just the same."

Without taking my eyes from his, I reached for the door handle. "Thank you so much for the ride. You saved me one freezing walk home."

"Anytime, Ms. Swan. And I look forward to working _professionally_ with you." I swear I saw a smug look flash across his face, but he composed his expression before I could be sure. What was that supposed to mean?

As I stepped out of the car and shut the door, I was certain that I knew.

A challenge.

At that moment, I would have bet every penny in my bank account on the notion that Edward was going to try to tear down the "professional" wall that I had built. He was going to try to make me fall for him, and to be one hundred percent honest, I didn't know how long I could stay standing against his efforts.

Something in the pit of my stomach told me that it was only a matter of time before I succumbed to him.

And it scared me shitless.

* * *

**A/N: Well, you know what to do. **

**Review, review, review.**

**Love you all.**


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